Thrill of the Hunt
by Erised
Summary: Draco thought he knew his future and where his loyalties lay. It all was so certain before one almost lonely night in a nearly deserted corridor. As a favor for a friend, he seeks out the source of his confusion, but is she the problem or the answer?
1. I'll Come to Thee by Moonlight

Disclaimer: I don't intend to infringe on any copyrights laws, I just want to exercise my freedom of speech.

**I'll come to thee by moonlight…**

Tonight was the night. With his invisibility cloak, the whole school was open to him during the night. For his birthday, his mother had sewn him an invisibility cloak. The cloth was particularly hard to come by and he knew what his mother must have suffered in order to get some from the bolt in the dungeons. One of his ancestors had been an excellent weaver and she had woven several magical cloths with such excellence that had yet to be challenged. The family kept several bolts of the remaining cloth in their vault and yet another set in their dungeon. It certainly paid to be a Malfoy.

            He slid beneath the cloak with ease and slithered with equal ease out of the dormitories and through the common room. The freedom and danger gave him such a rush; he nearly voiced his joy. But it would never do to get caught, particularly not on his first night of freedom. He made his way through the castle to the astronomy tower; he had an appointment to meet. A lovely appointment too, she was known very well as the Ravenclaw Raven, "wonton sex goddess" he added in his mind. Ah, what lovely places he would visit tonight.

            He stumbled. Blast it. He whirled around to melt the offending obstruction with his eyes when he found it to be a quickly retreating foot.

            "Who-who's there?" A female voice. This could be interesting. As he walked silently to where he had just been the Weasley girl, Ginny, revealed herself hidden in the doorway of the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. She was leaning against the door and from the shining of her cheeks, it looked like she had been crying. No tears were leaking from her eyes now; she was scared out of her wits. He decided to have some fun. He quickly did a voice altering charm and sat down next to her, pinning her body to the wall.

            "Don't scream." Her mouth stopped, half open. "I'm not particularly partial to the inside of your mouth." Her mouth snapped shut. He grinned with malice. Her tears had begun to leak again, and this time it was he who had caused them. "Being out, alone, in a dark corner of a very vast castle is very dangerous for a young girl." He pressed himself against her more, letting her feel the weight of him just a little. "You never know what could happen." He found the front of her cloak and then the hem of her skirt, he tickled the inside of her thigh. "Do you get my meaning?" The tears of fear flowed freely now, and she trembled slightly under his touch. Fear, again, no doubt. 

He moved to get up and go to his meeting, the Raven's trembling was much more fascinating, but Ginny circled her arms around his waist and buried her head where she instinctively knew the crook of his neck would be. She continued to cry, exhaling her self-pity and inhaling the scent of expensive cologne. It seemed to stick to his-this was definitely a him, although it could be Millicent Bulstrode-skin, only to be drawn out when she breathed in. It smelled, well as wealth should smell. She looked up into the invisible face and felt an invisible hand on her cheek. Half of her was invisible, the cloak concealing her. She knew that in this state of vulnerability, of his confusion and of hers, she could find out who he was. She felt full of power for an instant, forgetting to cry and hugging him to her. 

The hand on her cheek had moved to stroked her hair, eerily moving the hair in patterns that the human hand would make, but he had never seen. He didn't know what he was doing; he had never been in any sort of situation like this. She was clinging to him with a bit of desperation and he was…what the hell was he doing? He had an appointment to meet! Violently he shoved her away and stormed down the corridor, and finding that when he turned the corner the crying had resumed.

He arrived at the astronomy tower, only to find it empty. He checked his watch. 15 minutes after 10. Blast it! She had left. In the rules of the astronomy tower sexcapades if one partner was 10 minutes late, the other could leave assuming that partner would not show up. The female Weasley was going to pay for this. He nearly ran the whole way down to where she had been. There she was, her face pale in contrast to the flaming mess that she called hair, her cheeks damp and probably soft from the salt of her tears. Her green eyes wide and worried, her knees drawn up to her chest, slender wrists keeping slender ankles from moving. He debated his next move. He could wedge her in again or merely poke and prod her until she left. As if she knew he was there, she turned her eyes on him expectantly. He moved cautiously towards her, his hidden intent in his mind, then stepped out of the direction she looked and crushed her body with his, jerking her knees apart and settling between her legs.

"You're back." She reached into his cloak with her hand and put her hand on his cheek. He froze. Her thumb traced his cheek bone with undiscovered certainty. How was it that she was making him uncomfortable? She was supposed to be the one trembling with fear. He raised his hand, carelessly allowing it exposed from the cloak. He shut her eyes with his fingers and raised his wand.

"_No Verum."_

Her eyelids wouldn't open. She wondered briefly why she didn't struggle before she felt his lips on hers. She stiffened; this wasn't what she expected. The romance novels always described kissing filled with need and a drive. Here was his mouth, warm and…what? Yes it was seeking something, it was seeking her mouth to answer his, answer his questions. Yes it was comforting, strangely familiar. Yes it was connecting her with this unknown body filled with the confusion that filtered her fingertips.

She became aware of their hands then, they were exploring each other. While their lips met and pressed against each other, her hands sought the invisible form before her closed eyes. Her lips were becoming wet as they parted and she was vaguely aware of his hands pushing her cloak off her shoulders (_Had he undone the buttons?_) and hers doing the same to him (_What about his buttons?) Her hands moved on their own, free of their master who was too preoccupied with the newness of it all, unbuttoning and removing clothing from what felt like a very well sculpted body. His tongue had joined hers in her mouth and she fought with him, forcing him back into his own mouth and conquering the cavern she found there. She knew no hunting, no seeking, but lazy exploration of his now naked form (_How had that happened?_) while he explored hers._

She had slid under him, noting his skin touching hers everywhere. He was gentle, stroking his hands down her body, igniting a warm, natural burning within her. She sought to do the same, to provide the same warmth he gave to her. She wasn't cold. No, if anything she was too hot. His hands were doing things, wonderful things to her. She couldn't keep still, confused at her sudden desperation to cool the heat. She knew not how, and yet he guided her, guided himself into her, hurting her with a blissful hurt. She would always remember this pain. There was no danger in him, she decided, he was helping ease everything with his rocking, kissing, cradling. He was trying to help her rid herself of the heat, just as he had helped her banish the cold before. Sounds she didn't know ignited such a strange new reaction from her. She was hotter than ever now. Too hot. Too much warmth. Soon, it would be over. He would help. She tried to do what he did. Tried to help him too. He must be dying of heat. The sounds grew louder. Soon. Soon. Their mouths parted, and his head rested on her shoulder. He was sweating. She was sweating. Together they would get rid of the heat. Together. Yes, together. The heat swelled and finally burst. It became too much for itself and exploded. It was bliss, the heat was leaving and she was returning. Sweaty and sleepy.

Draco didn't allow himself the luxury of lying on her after he had regained his senses. He sought, found, and placed his clothing on his body. How on earth had she managed that? That had to have been the best sex he'd ever had. He looked at the clock before getting into bed. It was around one. Who knew Weasley had it in her. A few minutes ago she'd had him in her. He smiled, remembering. 

"_Verum_."

He looked down at her as she opened her eyes, looking like a fawn finding sight for the first time. She looked beautiful in the flush of after-sex. He smiled as he turned to walk away. She had been surprisingly non-resistant, almost willing to let him have her. She had been tight, oh yes she had been tight, and a virgin, no doubt. The way she had whimpered…he had forgotten what it was like to have a virgin. Her touches had been so innocent yet skilled. Well there had to be some reason why there were so many Weasleys in that family. It was probably hereditary. Such a wonderful gift, and such a pity he had to acquire his skill. But that was no matter, he had his skill now, and it was quite useful. He loved being able to wrap girls around his little finger, to torture and tease them and make them beg for him. It was much better than simply over powering them. To be desired was all he wanted, and desire him they did.

The Common Room was empty, as was to be expected when he returned. He crept noiselessly around the black, leather couch and brushed gently against the green tapestry, embroidered with a silver cobra on his way to the dormitories. No one was awake when he entered, but he wouldn't have been questioned if they were. No ever questioned a Malfoy's actions in his circle and they were probably too accustomed to this anyways.

The sheets held no comfort for him, the satin slithering over his skin like snakes. His arms folded behind his head, the curtains didn't ripple like they would had the manor when his windows were open. Through them, the hum of Crabbe's snoring came in drilling at his brain like his owl would nip at his ears. He wasn't tired; his body felt as though he had been swimming in the lake with a pound of lead tied to his legs, but his mind couldn't have been more alert. The alertness wasn't frightening, but oddly calming, as if he had returned to a pleasant dream after violently being awoken from it. He watched the ceiling, memorizing the veins in the wood as it became lighter and lighter and finally he could hear the telltale snorts and shuffles of boys waking up. Sliding out of bed, he noticed the invisibility cloak pooled on the floor where he had left it. When he returned it to the trunk, he faintly smelled honeysuckle before it was drowned in his trunk by the scent he called his own.

Today's breakfast seemed to taste better than it ever had.  A Danish and an apple scone on his plate, he knew if he were any other boy he would be teased for his fondness of fruit. He had sat himself facing the Gryfinndor table, watching for Ginny out of the corner of his eye. He felt as if he needed to thank her, but Malfoy's never thanked anyone. Determined, he drove his subconscious to the corner of his mind where he guarded it with a whip and strode off to History of Magic, Crabbe and Goyle having left their meals abruptly to follow him.

He was early and he knew it, but he made his silent excuse by adding a few more sentences to his essay.

"Late night, huh, Draco?"

"You could say that," he murmured, closing his book, leaning back, and putting his feet on the desk. "She was good."

"Pansy won't be happy if she finds out."

"Goyle, Pansy's never happy." His two friends sniggered. Vaguely, he wondered how such large persons were able to snigger, he had always imagined thin, pointy-nosed henchmen curling up and laughing behind their hands sniggering, but Crabbe and Goyle were doing precisely that. As if she knew they were talking about her, she walked in, chatting animatedly to Millicent Bulstrode.

"Oh you _must see them. They've got this dainty strap that ties just below the ankle and clasps with little butterfly and the heel makes me, maybe 3 inches taller." Pansy sat in the seat just in front of Draco and Millicent followed._

"I thought you weren't allowed to buy any more shoes?" said Millicent, straitening the feather quill so that it was smooth.

"Oh, but I didn't buy them, someone gave them to me." Pansy raised her voice slightly. "Do you have any idea who that someone could be?" she asked, looking pointedly at Draco.

"No."

His tone said it all, it was so flat that it crushed her hopes and she colored slightly, almost embarrassed to expect that it was him. Other students came in, filtering around them as they settled into their desks. Pansy and Millicent went back to discussing clothing, joined by Blaise who settled herself next to Goyle, who didn't seem to notice. They sat to his left, Blaise leaning across the aisle to talk to the other two Slytherin females in his year. He studied her; she was pretty enough with long black hair and sparkling amber eyes. She would be very good for the man who claimed her; he almost wished he were attracted to her, but he was the only one who knew her secret that he had found out the only night he had attempted to date a girl for a romantic inclination. He supposed her reaction was why he had never tried again.

Catching his pondering stare, Blaise winked before turning to the head of the classroom. Professor Binns glided through his desk to the bookshelf where he pulled musty old book off the shelf, cracked it open, and began his lecture. His voice crackled through the air like wind carrying dry leaves and Draco fought to stay awake and pay attention. A sleepless night and a boring hour almost took away his ability to take notes but he fought on, trying to make sense of the wind-like tones emitted from the ghost until the magical bell rang, signaling the end of the hour and Draco gratefully stood up. Blaise fell into step beside him as they made their way to Arithmancy.

"Boring as ever," she remarked, clutching her books to her breast.

"Well he's had a couple hundred years to improve his technique. Maybe he _wants_ us all to fail and not pay attention." She laughed.

"I hear you had a late night."

"Yeah."

"I also hear you didn't meet her."

"Yeah."

"Then why the late night."

"I got sidetracked." 

"Really? Since when do you get sidetracked Mr.OneTrackMind-Penis."

"Still with that hyphenated, fictitious last name? I thought you gave that up ages ago."

"Well, I did. I had forgotten about it. But when I was packing I found your letter again."

"Ugh. Don't embarrass me."

"All you needed was to write odes to my eyes and it would have been perfect."

"Blaise…"

"Ok, fine. But seriously, why the late night?"

"I didn't think this would be a big deal last night. In fact I thought it would never be mentioned again."

"You're avoiding the question."

"Yes, I am."

"C'mon, penis man."

"I met someone along the way and did it with her instead, happy?"

"Ooh, this is much better than what I thought. Who was it?"

"You. You were sleepwalking in your birthday suit and horny as hell, so horny that you forgot I had a-"

"Draco!"

"Did I say something wrong?" He spread his lips in an angelic smile. They had reached the Arithmancy classroom and sat at a desk in the back. "It's times like this that make me wish I were betrothed to you instead of Pansy."

She looked down. "You wouldn't want that."

"At least you make me laugh, and you'd be up for a three-some."

"Yes. Yes, I would."

He thought sixth year was supposed to be fun, it was the year after his OWLs and the year before his NEWTs, but the amount of homework he had left him stunned nonetheless. In past years, he had done his homework in the Common Room surrounded by noise where all he would have was to memorize potions ingredients and practice wand movements. When the noise became too distracting, he moved up to the dormitory accompanied by Crabbe and Goyle who needed all the help they could get with their homework. Now, he didn't have enough time to help them at all and after the first week, spent his time in the library alone. Crabbe and Goyle never came to the library, perhaps it was because there were so many books that they struggled with when reading that the amount in the library was terrifying, or maybe it was Madame Pince who after having caught one of them eating and spilling crumbs all over her precious book had screamed at them like a very articulate banshee and kept a nastily close watch on them whenever they entered the library. Tired of having to lug all the books from the library to the dungeons (which were on opposite sides of the castle), he had camped out every evening after the first week until it closed.

He had come to know the usual crowd that came here; there was Granger of course, and a few younger Ravenclaws. Nearly all of the seventh years spent their evenings here as well writing scroll after scroll of parchment for various classes. It was a wonder that after seeing the amount of work they did that he wasn't afraid of seventh year. It was the year last year he would be single; the last year that he would not serve the Dark Lord. Perhaps because it would be his last year of freedom he thought of it with affection. Some of the younger students came and went, and a few fifth years always sat huddled together. Luna Lovegood, Colin Creevey, and Ginny Weasley occupied the table just beyond his. He couldn't see them without turning, but he had no need to turn. He had homework.

Sometimes he would turn and see the candlelight glinting off of the Weasley girl's hair. Usually, she sat crosslegged on the chair with her face propped on her elbow, he cheek smushed to the side with her fist. There were inkstains on her hands and she always handled the books with care, as if the were the most valuable things in the world. Snidely, he thought they were probably the most valuable things she had ever handled and it was lucky her robes were black for the number of times she wiped the ink from her hands onto them.

The three of them often worked in silence, and he was grateful not to be distracted. As he observed over the weeks, he noticed that they would sometimes go, leaving Ginny alone. Sometime one would leave, sometime the other, and sometimes both of them would go off together and she would catch her staring at their empty chairs for minutes at a time.

Sometimes Blaise would come and find him and they would work together. Out of all the Slytherins, he shared the most classes with her and it was nice to have someone to share the frustration with. She would sit across from him, the candles sending shards of light through her eyes and still Ginny would work on, whether or not she was alone. Ginny was like clock work, always there from right after dinner until closing time like she was meant to be there and he doubted the library would feel the same without her.

~~~~~

So that's the first chapter. The title comes from the poem "The Highway Man" which I have put below.

**The Highway Man**

The wind was a torrent of darkness upon the gusty trees,  
The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,  
The road was a ribbon of moonlight looping the purple moor,  
And the highwayman came riding--  
Riding--riding--  
The highwayman came riding, up to the old inn door.  
  
He'd a French cocked hat on his forehead, and a bunch of lace at his chin;  
He'd a coat of the claret velvet, and breeches of fine doe-skin.  
They fitted with never a wrinkle; his boots were up to his thigh!  
And he rode with a jeweled twinkle--  
His rapier hilt a-twinkle--  
His pistol butts a-twinkle, under the jeweled sky.  
  
Over the cobbles he clattered and clashed in the dark inn-yard,  
He tapped with his whip on the shutters, but all was locked and barred,  
He whistled a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there  
But the landlord's black-eyed daughter--  
Bess, the landlord's daughter--  
Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair.  
  
Dark in the dark old inn-yard a stable-wicket creaked  
Where Tim, the ostler listened--his face was white and peaked--  
His eyes were hollows of madness, his hair like mouldy hay,  
But he loved the landlord's daughter--  
The landlord's black-eyed daughter;  
Dumb as a dog he listened, and he heard the robber say:  
  
"One kiss, my bonny sweetheart; I'm after a prize tonight,  
But I shall be back with the yellow gold before the morning light.  
Yet if they press me sharply, and harry me through the day,  
Then look for me by moonlight,  
Watch for me by moonlight,  
I'll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way."  
  
He stood upright in the stirrups; he scarce could reach her hand,  
But she loosened her hair in the casement! His face burnt like a brand  
As the sweet black waves of perfume came tumbling o'er his breast,  
Then he kissed its waves in the moonlight  
(O sweet black waves in the moonlight!),  
And he tugged at his reins in the moonlight, and galloped away to the west.  
  
He did not come in the dawning; he did not come at noon.  
And out of the tawny sunset, before the rise of the moon,  
When the road was a gypsy's ribbon over the purple moor,  
The redcoat troops came marching--  
Marching--marching--  
King George's men came marching, up to the old inn-door.  
  
They said no word to the landlord; they drank his ale instead,  
But they gagged his daughter and bound her to the foot of her narrow bed.  
Two of them knelt at her casement, with muskets by their side;  
There was Death at every window,  
And Hell at one dark window,  
For Bess could see, through her casement, the road that he would ride.  
  
They had bound her up at attention, with many a sniggering jest!  
They had tied a rifle beside her, with the barrel beneath her breast!  
"Now keep good watch!" and they kissed her. She heard the dead man say,  
"Look for me by moonlight,  
Watch for me by moonlight,  
I'll come to thee by moonlight, though Hell should bar the way."  
  
She twisted her hands behind her, but all the knots held good!  
She writhed her hands till her fingers were wet with sweat or blood!  
They stretched and strained in the darkness,  
and the hours crawled by like years,  
Till, on the stroke of midnight,  
Cold on the stroke of midnight,  
The tip of one finger touched it! The trigger at least was hers!  
  
The tip of one finger touched it, she strove no more for the rest;  
Up, she stood up at attention, with the barrel beneath her breast.  
She would not risk their hearing, she would not strive again,  
For the road lay bare in the moonlight,  
Blank and bare in the moonlight,  
And the blood in her veins, in the moonlight, throbbed to her love's refrain.  
  
Tlot tlot, tlot tlot! Had they heard it? The horse-hooves, ringing clear;  
Tlot tlot, tlot tlot, in the distance! Were they deaf that they did not hear?  
Down the ribbon of moonlight, over the brow of the hill,  
The highwayman came riding--  
Riding--riding--  
The redcoats looked to their priming! She stood up straight and still.  
  
Tlot tlot, in the frosty silence! Tlot tlot, in the echoing night!  
Nearer he came and nearer! Her face was like a light!  
Her eyes grew wide for a moment, she drew one last deep breath,  
Then her finger moved in the moonlight--  
Her musket shattered the moonlight--  
Shattered her breast in the moonlight and warned him--with her death.  
  
He turned, he spurred to the West; he did not know who stood  
Bowed, with her head o'er the casement, drenched in her own red blood!  
Not till the dawn did he hear it, and his face grew grey to hear  
How Bess, the landlord's daughter,  
The landlord's black-eyed daughter,  
Had watched for her love in the moonlight, and died in the darkness there.  
  
Back, he spurred like a madman, shrieking a curse to the sky,  
With the white road smoking behind him and his rapier brandished high!  
Blood-red were his spurs in the golden noon, wine-red was his velvet coat  
When they shot him down in the highway,  
Down like a dog in the highway,  
And he lay in his blood in the highway, with the bunch of lace at his throat.  
  
And still on a winter's night, they say, when the wind is in the trees,  
When the moon is a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,  
When the road is a gypsy's ribbon looping the purple moor,  
The highwayman comes riding--  
Riding--riding--  
The highwayman comes riding, up to the old inn-door.  
  
Over the cobbles he clatters and clangs in the dark inn-yard,  
He taps with his whip on the shutters, but all is locked and barred,  
He whistles a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there  
But the landlord's black-eyed daughter--  
Bess, the landlord's daughter--  
Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair.  
  
-- Alfred Noyes


	2. Dreams Come True

Disclaimer: I don't intend to infringe on any copyrights laws, I just want to exercise my freedom of speech.

**Dreams Come True**

In mid November, the leaves had nearly all fallen to the ground leaving skeletal trees behind. It was oddly warm, usually by this time there had been the first frost, and the trees, thinking it was spring, had been tricked into budding again. It was cruel for with the first frost would come the death of all the unborn leaves. But Ron was not paying attention to the odd weather, more preoccupied with something else that was odd.

"I think there's something wrong with him, he's barely said a thing to us all year," Ron said, watching his potion simmering.

"Maybe he's grown up," Hermione replied, already onto the next step of stirring in powdered niffler hooves.

"Not bloody likely," Harry snorted, watching his potion simmer like Ron while grinding the niffler hooves with a mortal and pestle.

"And why not? Just because you two haven't gotten over this rivalry doesn't mean he hasn't."

"But this is Malfoy we're talking about here."

"And I'm not complaining about him. He's called me a mudblood more times than I care to count, but the word hasn't even escaped his lips this year when we're paired in Ancient Runes for translation. He hasn't even bothered me in the library and I've been alone. He's sat at the table next to Ginny and hasn't made a single comment about her robes or anything."

"He's been sitting next to Ginny!?!"

"Ron, now is not the time to get in to your 'big brother' routine. I said the table next to hers, as in separate. Watch your potion."

"Ok, mummy." Hermione sighed. 

"It's not my fault," Hermione said, "that people change."

"Hermione, why do you always have to see the best in people?" Harry asked grudgingly.

"Because if you two don't, there's no one left who will."

            Ron simmered as much as his potion while he added the niffler hooves and replied sulkily to any other questions that were asked, whether it was Hermione asking for the shrivelfig extract or Harry planning to take his broom out for a glide around the quidditch pitch. Finally he spoke.

            "Harry?" Harry looked at him with relief and stopped ladling the potion into a container. "Why did you say Ginny's name in your sleep last night?" Harry flushed and his mouth puckered as if he had just eaten a dozen lemons.

            "Did I?"

            "Yes, several times." Harry's eyes widened, giving him the expression of someone who was suffocating. Hermione looked like she was torn between intervening and laughing.

            "You've got my blessing mate." Harry exhaled, his face melting into normalcy.

            "Thanks, Ron. Thanks a lot."

"I can't believe that fourth year banished Flitwick out the window."

"Wonderful, isn't it?" They sat in their usual seats, at their usual table. He looked over at Ginny's empty seat. It was the first time he had been in the library that year without Ginny there. The library felt like a blackened hearth without a fire: cold and worn.

"Somehow you don't think it is."

"No, I think it's wonderful."

"Right…" The book she was opening creaked in objection, but she ignored it and set to work on the History of Magic Essay they had been assigned ("Explain the controversy over animal concealment spells in the 15th century") while Draco researched Crups for Care of Magical Creatures. _Fantastic Beasts & Where to Find Them, _Wizard's Best Friend_, _Crup___ Care, and __Muggle__ Defense Animals lay spead in front of him, full of conflicting information that had changed over time. One book told him that Crups preferred to live in a messy environment so that it could use its natural scavenging instincts to clean up while another warned against leaving the Crup alone in a clean apartment for long for its scavenging instincts would cause it to rip the apartment apart in search for food. The day waned, making the library darker every moment and the fire made the shadows dance like it was burning the shadows themselves. Suddenly, the torches on the wall burst into flame all at once, muting the fire's torment. He was getting nowhere and sighed heavily, leaning back in his chair and looking at the empty one at the next table. _

"Preoccupied?"

"You could say that."

"You know, she won't appear no matter how hard you keep looking at the chair."

"Like I want her to." Blaise raised an eyebrow. "It's just a distraction from all this mental activity."

"If you say so…"

He stretched, then bent back over the tomes, making a list of everything he could dig up, marking opposing comments and bringing in another source to reinforce one side or another. More often than not, the third source would either make no mention of the particular fact he was looking for and would instead bring a third point of view into his mind. He was half-way through the introduction by the time the bell rang for signaling the end of classes. He would have a half hour until dinner.

He sighed, raking his fingers through his stiffly gelled hair and then smoothing it down again. "I'll be back." He walked through the dark bookshelves filled with leather-bound books and out of the library with the intention of taking a quick walk to the lake and back to clear his mind. He had not gone more than two steps when he was accosted by Cho Chang, the Ravenclaw Raven. She grabbed his hand and pulled him down a nearly empty corridor. The lack of body heat made the hall chilly despite the torches doing their best to heat and light it.

"I missed you," she said, smiling in the way that had captured the heart of nearly all the Hogwarts males at one time or another.

"I'm sorry. I got sidetracked." She ran her finger up and down his forearm.

"That's not like you, and you know how much I hate being stood up…"

"I said I was sorry." Her smile faltered and her finger stilled.

"No charming smile? No snide yet endearing comment? What's wrong?" she teased.

"I got a better offer." All the effort put into her smile fueled the rage in her eyes as her smile disappeared.

"Fine. Just fine." Furious, she turned and left.

He exhaled and walked slowly back to the library. There may come a time when he needed her to relieve his sexual frustration and he would have to apologize but not now. It was somehow relieving to have her off his back, have her not expect anything from him. He had finished his essay by the time the next bell rang.

            At the manor, dinner was an amazingly formal event. Draco would be dressed at exactly 6'o'clock in a nice pair of trousers and shirt, with his formal robes over it. His mother would be dressed in one of her gowns with one of the Malfoy heirlooms glittering at her throat and her hair charmed perfectly in place. His cloak swirling behind him, his father would always enter the room last, after Draco and his mother were seated, walk rapidly along the length of the room and take his seat at the head of the table. The moment he sat down, the dishes would fill with food and goblets with each family member's favorite drink: brandy for his father, champagne with raspberry juice for his mother, and sparkling pumpkin juice for Draco. The meal wasn't over until his father was finished, when he would toss his napkin into his plate like a foodstained flag of defeat and march off to his study. Often, he wouldn't speak at all during the meal.

            It was always a shock for Draco when he returned to Hogwarts to eat dinner surrounded but noise and other people jostling his elbows, and when he returned it would be odd not to be greeted by the sound of noise upon entering the dining area.

            As Draco and Blaise entered the Great Hall the stars burned brightly against the enchanted ceiling. It was already filled with chattering students and the Slytherins had already saved him a spot. They moved over to make room for Blaise who sat herself between Draco and Pansy, much to the other girl's dismay. Draco silently thanked Blaise, who gave him a knowing wink, then turned to compliment Pansy on her new hairstyle. Her dirty blond hair was curled into shimmering ringlets spilled over her head from a high ponytail. Each curl had been pinned to her head, making her look like a palm tree. Draco stared just beyond her left ear his eyes following the youngest Weasley. She seemed to light up the room, absorbing the light from the stars and shooting it back at every corner of the room. Her hair was pulled back into a messy bun with long, messy tendrils escaping it, and licking her neck like flames. But it was not her appearance that startled him. Laughter exploded from her like fireworks and she walked, leaning on the arm of Lavender Brown for support. Lavender smiled a knowing smile and Ginny, catching her eye once more, said something and took a seat at the Gryfinndor table, still grinning. He had never seen her like this. She wasn't just happy, she was radiant and shared one more glance with Lavender before Lavender leaned towards Harry and teased him. He looked up suddenly and then at Ginny, his mouth puckered with displeasure and surprise. Ginny didn't notice and eventually her glow faded, but he kept watching, willing it to come back. Discretely, Blaise poked him in the ribs.

            "What?"

            "You're not eating." She followed his gaze. "Unless there is something more interesting than food…"

            "Nothing's more interesting than food," he retorted, shoveling mashed potatoes from his plate to his mouth and tearing his gaze from the Gryfinndor table.

            "I'd say Professor McGonagall prancing about in her knickers on the teachers table-"

            "Maybe for you. Besides, she's not."

            "Please," Blaise said, delicately cutting a piece of chicken and eating it daintily, "She's not my type."

            "She's not!" He feigned surprise. "I thought you were all for the surly types. You hang out with me, after all."

            "You're not surly. You're just my little boy toy." She patted his arm as only Blaise could.

            "I am not," he replied, moving from the potatoes to the roast chicken, "little."

            "How would I know that? I have no desire to get into your pants."

            "Nor do I."

            "I have perfectly good reasons to believe you want to get into your own pants, for instance the sweat marks on your sheets every morning. And there was a time you wanted to get into mine."

            "Ah well. I was under the Imperio curse, or something like that. Your father wanted to bring you back to the bright side." She smiled.

"Honey, there's no coming back from the Dark Side."

            "We'll see about that."

            Blaise was drawn back into conversation with Pansy and Draco with Marcus Flint. Discussing Quidditch with Flint took his mind into the realm of strategies and possible new players but a little, dark shadow huddled in the back of his mind, dodging bludgers, the quaffle, and the players that soared in his mind. 

_The dungeons were cold, but the blood kept him warm. At least this time he knew why he was here, he had been too foolish to enter into the library without checking first and his father had been immersed in dusty tomes of Dark Magic. Not taking lightly to the intrusion and welcoming the distraction, his father had taken him down to the dungeons, shoved his wrists into the shackles and whipped him for what seemed like hours. Draco didn't cry out anymore, and he had only cried the first time. Finally satisfied with the amount of blood, his father had left. Draco knew he would return in the morning._

_The stone was cold too, slicked with his blood and the grime and sweat and blood of others. Draco wondered if he's be given the healing potion this time. He probably would; he hadn't done anything too serious, just intruded. But his father was unpredictable. Maybe he would want Draco's back to itch for the next few days. The other times, Draco hadn't been able to lie on his back for a month because the wounds would open and take longer to heal. And the itching was worse than dragonpox._

_The skin had broken so many times that when left to heal by themselves, the scars couldn't be charmed off. The last time, his mother had cried while she tried the spell over and over again. The sections of scar that remained had begun to link together, branching across his back like lightening._

_The creaking of the cell door grated against his ears, already sensitized by the drip drip drip of a leaky pipe his father never fixed. He knew how much the prisoners hated the drip drip drip. The rustling of silk and click-clack of highheeled shoes made him lift his head, cutting his cheek on the jutting edge of a  stone._

_Over his shoulder, he saw she was dressed in yellow and was glowing like she had in the Great Hall. She looked like she belonged in some 19th century portrait except for the freckles. He didn't mind, they were like stars across her milky skin. She did not smile at him, studying him with the same twist in her mouth that came when she was contemplating a particularly difficult transfiguration problem. Gently, she touched his shirt. The torn and bloodied cloth melted into the night. Next, she traced her fingers lightly over his back. Her warm fingers balmed his skin with her touch, the wounds sealing themselves. Her face was very close to his, her mouth formed into a pouting frown._

_"These are very beautiful," she said, tracing her fingers over the freshly healed skin along one of his veined scars. It was odd hearing her speak. He had never heard her speak before. She pressed a gentle kiss to the highest notch of his spine and he shivered. She was so warm._

_"You're cold, aren't you?" The keys tinkled as she undid the shackles.  He rubbed his wrists as soon as they were released. She took his wrists in her hands and before his eyes the red vanished. He looked up at her, incredulously. She smiled gently and stroked her finger along the cut on his cheek before pressing her lips to his. He was afraid to touch her and so they stood, their lips parting and meeting over and over. And then, like the red of his wrists and the black of his shirt, she vanished too._

            He awoke, very warm in the cold sea of sheets, wet from his sweat. The dreams always began with a memory. They would begin with the memory and get worse and worse until he woke from the fear of it all. This time, he had awoken from gentle shock. Never had the dreams gotten better, and never had she been there.

He wondered how Blaise had found out about his sheets and was thankful she had assumed the sweat was from his pleasure. 

"You're ignoring your food again."

Blaise had come down to the common room to find Draco, very much awake, staring intently into the fire while sprawled precariously on a couch. Together, they had gone down to breakfast and the other Slytherins had followed at a more normal hour. At first, he had not eaten anything and they had sat together by the fire in the Great Hall, bantering as they usually did. But when Millicant had come down, Blaise had left him alone, returning when Pansy entered the room. Not liking the girl much, Blaise felt that she needed to protect Draco from her as well, which Draco appreciated.

Stirring his eggs around on his plate, he thought back to last year when he had a violent crush on Blaise. He nearly worshipped her eyes, admired her haughty demeanor which was so like his own, and long to see her curtain of black hair hang over him as they…seeded the garden. And then he found out and he thought himself very foolish for liking her at all, but knowing her secret made him feel closer to her than to anyone; he had never shared a secret before. This time last year, he would have spent all his time with Crabbe and Goyle sharing PlayWizard and Maximus Penis around their room and commenting on the size of the witch's breasts or helping them with homework. Now he was spending time in the library with a girl he wasn't even dating sitting next to a girl who he didn't like. He looked for her again and found her, eating a piece of toast.

"She's pretty isn't she?"

"I suppose."

"Maybe she's not all that pretty-" Blaise rested her chin on her fist, her elbow on the table. "-just captivating."

"You could say that."

"You like her, don't you."

"No, she's a muggle-loving-"

"Spare me." He did.

"Look, if you don't like her so much, you can help me. I like her."

"You do?"

"Don't look so surprised. I think we'd make a lovely couple."

"Yeah, you'd be the couple of my fantasies if you'd let me watch you in the bedroom," he said blandly.

"Don't take that tone with me. I want you to find out if she's like me."

"If you mean cruel and crass then no, she's not."

"I mean if she's a lesbian, you thick-skulled ferret."

"Well if I didn't have a thick skull I wouldn't have survived the bouncing."

"Seriously, Draco."

"I think you picked the wrong guy for this, Blaise. I don't think she'd tell me if I had a smudge of dirt on my forehead."

"And neither would I. It's funny when you don't look perfectly put together."

"It is not!"

"Just try to ask her out."

"She'd say no as an automated response."

"Draco, you could charm a porcupine into giving up its quills with your smile."

"Which is what I'd be doing."

"Just _try it. I don't want to let just anyone know about me, you know that. I had to tell you because you wouldn't lay off. Just do the same with her and the secret will be yours."_

"It's not that easy, Blaise."

"Please, Draco, just try?"

"Fine," he sighed, looking at the girl that was now his target, "I'll try."

~~~~~

Thanks so much to Adie, SicDreamsInc, and Kris for reviewing. Review more, more, more. I need review. I crave reviews. I lust for reviews…well, maybe not that far but please review. Thanks. And well-rounded reviews are more than welcome. I would like to continue improving, but how can I do that if all the reviews are get are all positive?


	3. Wild Goose Chase

Disclaimer: I don't intend to infringe on any copyrights laws, I just want to exercise my freedom of speech.****

**Wild Goose Chase**

            The library that evening was chilled as it had not been in months. It was as if every crack in the drafty castle had opened as wide as it could and was sucking the cold air in. Blaise did not join him in the library leaving him to what she called "his work" and had stared liberally at the Weasley girl throughout all three meals. Somehow, he felt that she was enjoying her stares and wasn't doing it only to prove a point. He had felt oddly protective, even though he knew Blaise was a perfectly wonderful girl. Last night, he had dreamt of the Weasley girl again, this time he was chasing her through the topiary garden at Malfoy Manor, and he shrugged the emotion off on that. The memory the dream had built off of ended with Draco's arm nearly eaten by the giant Venus flytrap. 

            The Weasley girl had also been alone, her friends having left to seek the comforting fire in their common room, but she worked on, shivering. Used to the natural chill of the dungeons, the cold didn't bother him much, but he shut his books and shoved them into his bag, hopefully catching the Weasley girl's attention. He moved maybe ten feet away to the library fire and began to work there, sinking into the worn, overstuffed armchair and spreading his books on the small coffee table. A few minutes later, she followed and sat, faltering slightly before sitting and working again. He smiled and pulled a book into his lap.

            After waiting a few minutes, he looked up. On the mantle was a large hourglass, the gentle pouring of the sand soothing him as he watched it. It was more empty on the top than the bottom, and would automatically flip itself at the hour. He noted her glance up, then return to her work and he turned to study her.

            She was red-haired, as was to be expected for a Weasley, with glimmering green eyes. They were not like Potter's which were a shocking emerald, but more of a pale green, like faded grass, and he thought he could detect hints of gold and brown, but that might just be the firelight. Her hair was illuminated, gold flecks sparkling amongst the red. Her hair seemed a rainbow of colors, from strawberry blond to carroty orange to dark auburn. If they ever went on a date, he would make sure there was firelight for she looked best in it, although he thought she might do well at around sunset. He tucked this information away in his mind like she would often tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. 

            His eyes traveled down the edge of the open robe, taking in her small breasts, her flat tummy, and the ribs that he knew were slightly visible. She was tall enough and thin enough to be a model, like one of those moving manikins in Madam Malkin's. Her legs were mostly covered by knee-high socks, her skirt hitched up a quite a bit and he fancied if he were sitting two feet to the left he would be able to see her knickers. She clasped a quill between her index and middle fingers, resting the back on the fleshy bit of her hand between her thumb and index fingers. He had noticed the inkstains on this fleshy bit because of how she held the quill. The black smears mapped out how she wrote: the ink on the edge of her pinky and the side of her hand from occasionally smudging the ink, the tip of her ring finger from the ink dripping from the unblotted quill tip. He took in as much as he could; knowing that he had seen more, or would have if he had kept his eyes open. Her other hand played with a gold chain around her neck. It had not been there the night in the corridor.

            It was said the Malfoy family began with the mating of a vampire and a veela. The union of two beautiful but evil creatures had married a half-human, half-demon. Thus, four humanesque and magical creatures were combined. It was because of the demon blood that Malfoys never wore gold, the vampires gave them pale skin, veelas gave beauty, and the human, who had been a wizard, gave magic.

            The gold around her throat captured his attention. It was the forbidden metal not because it hurt him to touch it but because it was tradition. There was a charm at the end of it; he didn't know what it was but it glinted in the firelight, drawing him in like a beam of light from a lighthouse drew a stranded ship to port. She stopped fiddling with the necklace and his eyes met hers. She stared at him and he was embarrassed he was caught but he kept looking; Malfoys never backed down. After a few moments and with a small sigh of dismissal, she moved the paperweights that ensured the parchment wouldn't roll and stacked her parchment on top before rolling them all and stuffing them into a tube where she usually kept her homework so that the rolls wouldn't be dented. She stood, straightening her skirt, then disappeared between the shelves of books. She had left her things there so he knew she'd come back.

            It was strange, he thought, not being worth the effort of retaliation.

            She returned a few minutes later with a well-worn, cloth bound book in an alarming shade of red. The color gave the contents away; he knew exactly where _those_ kinds of books were found and what was between the covers. He caught her eye as she sat and stared pointedly at the book. She shrugged slightly before opening the book, staring for a moment at the illustration in the inside cover before turning the page and settling comfortably into the chair.

            Again, he wasn't worth the effort.

            Lord, if Weasley knew what his sister was reading he'd have a fit. He glanced at the title. _Lessons on a Broomstick it read, conjuring images of himself and Ginny on the quidditch pitch swooping around each other while naked. His own broomstick readied itself for action, but Draco had to deny its wish. His Ancient Runes homework that he had been neglecting seemed a lot less interesting than this sudden fantasy, but he returned to it anyways._

            On the mantle, the hourglass turned for the 21st time that day.

_The sandy beach had dunes along the back where the ocean couldn't reach it and where wizards didn't go before a solid wall of stone rose, standing guard impassively. He lay sprawled across the sand where he had fallen, amazed that he wasn't hurt. His body had simply bounced like a rubber ball. The ocean's waves tickled his feet. He was seven years old._

_She was there, this time wearing a dress of pale green. She was younger too, but still older than him. She looked like she had in his second year and the dress made her look like a flower girl escaped from a wedding. She even had a yellow plastic bucket instead of a basket filled with flowers._

_"Fun, wasn't it?" Draco rolled onto his back and looked up at her. She splashed him with her foot. Draco sat up, spitting out the mouthful of sea water. Not concerned, she walked up to her knees in the water so the dress just went under the water; she didn't seem to mind that the dress was wetting and filled her bucket with water. She came up beside him and dumped some sand in the bucket. Then she took a handful of dribbly sand and moved her hand over him, dribbling over his stomach. He wanted to protest, but he was fascinated by the cool flow of the sand that left clumps on his clothes. He lay back and she dribbled again. And again. She took his hand and plunged it into the icy water and grasped his hand in hers, making him take a fistful of drippy sand. She held his hand still over the dribbly pile and the sand escaped his fingers. She helped him take the sand again, and dribbled it, the sand slipping through both their fingers. The next time, he was eager and plunged his hand into the bucket without her assistance. To his surprise, his hand closed over a hard object, not over the sort sand he expected. He opened his hand to find a piece of violet glass in his palm, too blunt to cut him._

            He woke to find the room tinged gray with the dawning of the sun. He flipped back the covers and went to his trunk. There he found a small, wooden box, decorated with silver Celtic patterns. Inside he kept odd things that were special to him. An old, rusted skeleton key, an empty bottle that still held traces of the scent he knew to be "mother", a few pictures he didn't want to show to anyone, and amongst them a piece of violet glass.

            He had found it after splashing and playing in the ocean, having thrown all caution to the wind. His father had rented a cottage near the edge of the ocean and Draco had wandered off, chasing a baby unicorn that had appeared out of the woods. It was so beautiful, the gold color like a beacon of sunlight, all he had wanted was to touch it, and he had ran and ran. The unicorn left a clear path for him to follow and had led him to the other side of the forest, to the cliff. The unicorn had turned sharply to the right, but Draco had run right over the edge. After falling and waking, he thought himself free, and as a seven-year-old, he didn't think that freedom would end. That was the best day of his life, which turned into the worst day of his life when he was whipped until he bled for "being disobedient and making your mother worry". It had been the first time he was whipped.

            Slowly, he dressed and woke Crabbe and Goyle before heading down to breakfast. The Great Hall was alive and busy, the tables mostly filled. After seating himself next to Marcus Flint, he grabbed a raspberry scone and buttered it. Pansy moved over to him.

            "Good morning," he said affably. It was a good morning, the sky above the hall, and therefore the ceiling of the hall, blazed a brilliant blue, almost as brilliant as the ocean had been in his dream.

            "Where have you been lately? I feel like I haven't seen enough of you." She smiled owningly at him and he felt no inclination to tell her that her elbow was a half an inch away from the butter dish.

            "The library," he told her simply, biting into the scone delicately.

            "You seem to always be there. Tell me, Draco," she smiled at his name, "What sort of mischief do you get up to there…"

            "Homework mischief."

            "Oh." She cast about for a new thread of discussion.

            "En guarde," Draco thought.

            "Well," he said, standing and shouldering his bag, "I'm off."

            "But," she sputtered, "Classes don't start for another hour."

            "I know," he said, not bothering to look over his shoulder as he left. He had seen Ginny Weasley leave just moments before and was determined to catch up with her. Sure enough, she was walking up the stairs and Draco followed. He bumped into her, pushing her into the wall, but she caught her footing and continued on her way, not even bothering to reprimand him.

            The third time she had ignored him.

            He made his way to Potions, fuming. How dare she simply brush him away as if he were a speck of ash that wasn't big enough to cause notice. Was he simply not worth the effort? Or maybe her reaction wasn't simply because of him.

            Perhaps she was used to this sort of thing. Was she used to being jostled? Maybe she was just as used to being overlooked as he was used to being the center of attention. He didn't have any siblings so he didn't have anyone to share his parent's attention with and didn't know what it felt like. He was the best off out of all his friends, being the richest, the smartest, and the most beautiful. The only one who had given him any sort of competition in his house was Blaise and that had made her attractive to him. But Ginny was the youngest. He would think that would make her stand out. But her desires might have gotten lost in the rough and tumble of 6 brothers that had come before her. And she was the only girl. Another distinction. He didn't know what to make of her.

            After potions, he hurried back to the Defense Against the Dark Arts corridor. He had Care of Magical Creatures next, but he followed her anyways, hoping to catch her alone again. To his dismay, she walked and chatted animatedly with Creevey. He was too far away to hear her or what they were saying, but followed them to Muggle Studies before rushing to Care of Magical Creatures. He was nearly late, saying he had needed to use the bathroom as an excuse to the other Slytherins.

            Luckily, she had Arithmancy and was alone when she walked. He made a snide comment in passing about threadbare robes that were constantly redyed with ink, but received not more than a blink. He turned to go to Ancient Runes, his head buzzing with ideas to make her react. He would not take lightly to being ignored.

            He followed her to Charms next, followed by a pack of Slytherins on their way to Transfiguration. He pinched his nose and said he thought he smelled a rat, no a Weasel. The Slytherins had laughed but she didn't even reward him with a blink, like she was a turtle withdrawing further and further into her shell and couldn't be hurt.

            He spent all of lunch glaring at her, reassessing her. He thought that her red hair and Ron Weasley's fire-cracker temper were sure signs that she too would have that temper. In fact, he had seen it once or twice used on her brother when he was being overprotective. Where had it gone? He saw her rise and rose with her, leaving Blaise behind, smiling her knowing smile.

            Ginny stepped into the Transfiguration corridor and he hurried, bumping her in the process. Her books nearly flew out of her arms at his shove but she caught them. It was as soon as she caught her footing that she tripped and her books flew out quite thoroughly out of her arms and her bag, slipped off her shoulder falling and spilling its contents. Had it been Draco's bag, there would be a sea of parchment, quills, gags from the joke shop, books, sweets and empty wrappers, but Ginny's was surprisingly neat. The roll in which she kept her homework bounced merrily, a few ink-stained quills flew as if they were still attached a bird (Draco winced as one nib hit the stone floor and broke the quill beyond repair) and 3 books, a red, tatty novel on top, slid part-way out of the bag. Her ink bottle was on the red novel and he scooped it up before it could fall; he didn't want anything else to break. She stood, stunned, before joining him on the floor. He reached for the novel, and she slapped his hand away.

            "I don't need your help." Her voice wrapped around the biting words, giving them teeth before they sunk into him. He didn't stop and left the roll and ink bottle by her bag. Her hand reached out for the quills and it stilled.

            "My quill…" The look on her face made his chest constrict. Sometimes he had teased people until they cried or tried to beat him but the look of remorse on her face was something he had never seen before. It was probably her favorite.

            "I didn't mean to," he apologized weakly. Suddenly, he unbuckled his bag and found his favorite quill. It was a black eagle feather that glinted gold as if the feather had gold woven into it. He held it out to her. She stared, open-mouthed, at his hand, then glared at him, her eyes squinting with malice.

            "I don't need your things." She stuffed the quills in her bag and shouldered it, preparing to leave.

            "Please, take it." He gestured again, holding the quill out to her. She reached out to take it, their fingers brushing as she did. His little self stiffened at her touch. She smiled.

            "Thanks."

            She wasn't sitting in her normal spot in the library, but he knew that she was there. Skipping the table where he usually sat, he moved to the fire where they had sat the day before. She was there, her robe draped over the back of the chair, writing with the quill he had given her that day. She smiled at him as he sat and he was caught in a vision of gold: in her hair, around her neck, in her eyes and in the quill. He smiled back.

            His homework seemed to go by in record time. And he finished before her. Sometimes he would glance up and see her trailing the tip of the feather along her neck as she thought. He thought of kissing her neck like that, gliding his lips up and down lightly.

            He stacked his books on the table and leaned back, watching her. Because of all her little habits, she was a very beautiful person to watch. Twisting her mouth when thinking, tucking her hair behind her ears, rolling the nib of her quill between her fingers, and of course, tickling herself with the feather. She looked up.

            "What?" she asked and he smirked. "Do I have an ink smudge on my face?"

            "Are you ticklish?"

            "What?"

            "Are you ticklish?"

            "I-" he took the quill from her fingers and traced it along her neck. She shuddered.

            "Yes, yes I am." Now he was close enough to her to see the charm on the end of her necklace. Unfortunately, it was tucked inside her shirt. He looked down at the parchment spread across her lap, balanced on a thick book.

            "What are you working on?"

            "Magical Healing. It's an essay on forms of anesthesia."

            "I heard that class was horribly boring."

            "Well, it is. Madam Pomphrey may know what she's talking about, but she lectures horribly. It's when there's patients that the classes become interesting. She'll place an Unidentifiable Spell on the patient so we don't know who it is and we can watch as she performs treatment. In seventh year we'll be able to do hands on practice." She said this all with great excitement, and he wondered where she found it.

            "If it's a boring class than why take it?" She looked at him with superiority.

            "Because it's the subject that's fascinating. Discovering what's wrong, and finding an answer to the problem. Sometimes you have to find the answer without knowing the problem. It's like a crossword puzzle, you get the clues to the word, and you think of the word except you only get the letters and you have to rearrange the letters in order to fill it in."

            "So you'd like to be a Healer."

            "Yes, I would. I suppose I'm a bit young to know what I want to do but…I just love it. Do you know what you'll do?"

"No." He looked down at his hands. He had filed his nails last night before he went to bed so they were even and smooth. He looked at hers, examining her bitten nails and the ink-mapped skin, slightly chapped from the cold. "I'm good at potions," he offered, finally.

"Looking to be the next Professor Snape," she teased.

"Well, the man has always had my full admiration," he teased back. But it was true. The man had managed to be on the good side of both Voldemort and Dumbledore. The Dark Lord had been convinced of Snape's loyalty when Snape said he passed on one bit of true information mixed in a bunch of lies to Dumbledore to assure that his skin would be safe. And He needed someone at the school to keep an eye on the students and the Headmaster. The Dark Lord had thought it very cunning. Dumbledore obviously believed the man because he kept him employed.

"If the rumors are true, I know exactly what you'll be."

"What rumors?" He felt sick.

"The ones about who you'll be at the end of school. About who you'll be working for." He felt sicker. 

"Well, are they?"

"Are they what?" He waited with baited breath for her next word.

"True."

"I…I can't tell you."

He was a coward, a completely moronic coward, shoving his books and parchment into his bag haphazardly and standing to leave. Damn her for looking concerned. Damn her for wanting to know. Damn her. He blurted out what he had been wanting to ask, his voice sounding oddly strained.

"Would you like to come to Hogsmeade with me next week? I mean, we won't be able to do the other stuff people do together like going to Madam Puddifoot's or the Three Broonsticks but I've got an invisibility cloak and we could slip off and have a picnic or something…it wouldn't be a date, I mean, you're friends with Creevey and I'm friends with Blaise and–" He felt he would ramble on forever if she didn't stop him.

"I'll think about it." She said calmly, as if his erratic behavior was nothing wrong at all.

He didn't wait any longer for her response. He didn't want to admit to her his almost certain future with the Dark Lord. He didn't want her to know about his past, afraid she would be ashamed of him, or ashamed for him. He would just get Blaise's question out Ginny and be done with her. The girl would question him, making his loyalty waver. That would be dangerous for him, and for her.

Back in the library, tucked into a corner were a clutch of observers. 4 shadows were cast by the fire: 3 huddled together, whispering, and 1 in silent fury.

~~~~~

Adie: I don't mind that you brought up the first chapter, in fact it's very flattering that you could keep reading and not be bored.

SicDreamsInc: Thanks for being honest ::wink::. And you got what you asked for, I hope.

Ennui: Thank ye, me girl.

To all others who read this: I like to know what you think so please review. It really boosts my ego to have lots of reviews and motivates me to write faster. But thanks for barreling through this with me, and don't worry, I've still got plenty of ideas floating around in me 'ead. Shieh Shieh. (Chinese for Thank You)


	4. Hogsmeade

Disclaimer: I don't intend to infringe on any copyrights laws, I just want to exercise my freedom of speech.

**Hogsmeade**

            He woke early on Saturday and dressed speedily but carefully. He had Hogsmeade all planned. They would go separately; he would excuse himself to buy a present for his mother (which he had already bought) and meet her at the Shrieking Shack. Then they would go into the woods into a clearing he had discovered a few years ago and have a picnic. The only part missing from his plan was the picnic.

            He dreaded going down into the kitchens, mingling among the house-elves. Not only did they not like him, but they sensed it and cowered subserviently whenever he caught them cleaning the Common Room during the night. Besides, he had heard that the Malfoy's old house-elf Dobby was here and he wondered how many elves had been told of his father's brutality.

            On the second night in Hogwarts, the Slytherin first years were given a tour of the castle by the Slytherin Prefects. Without the knowledge of the teachers, the first years learned secret passages, secret rooms, and general locations of classrooms and bathrooms. One stop on the tour was the entrance of the kitchens and instructions on how to open it. He had never tried to come to the kitchens before. Standing in front of the painting of fruit, he remembered the prefect's voice, telling them "All you have to do is tickle the pear." He reached out his hand, feeling very silly at tickling the painting, but to his surprise and relief the fruit shrunk into a pear-shaped handle, which he turned before pushing the painting and stepping into the kitchen.

            It was extremely warm and house-elves swarmed the kitchens, chopping, stirring, frying, baking and cleaning the messes others had left behind. The portrait closed behind him and he stood, watching in awe at the quick movements of the elves transferring the food to four long tables, almost identical to the tables in the Great Hall. The only difference was the lack of table settings; there were none. A squeak told him he had been noticed.

            "Young mister Malfoy, sir. We are not expecting you sir." It was Dobby, the formerly dismissed house-elf, wringing his hands as if he expected some punishment for addressing him.

            "Dobby?"

            "Yes, sir." He was dressed ridiculously in a knotty woolen hat, a pair of shorts with hearts on them, a violet sock on one foot and a bright orange one on the other.

            "Is there any way I can get a picnic basket with food?"

            "Yes, sir. Right away, sir." He ducked into one of the doors that Draco assumed was pantry, three other elves at his heels. Two of them wore tea towels with the Hogwarts crest, one wore a skirt, a blouse, and a hat that matched her skirt, all which were scorched and stained. They emerged soon after, Dobby carrying a large basket covered with a towel.

            "Here's your food, sir." Dobby handed the basket shakily to him. Draco found it was quite heavy. "There's a blanket in there too, sir, for sitting on. Just leave the basket in your room tonight and Dobby will come get it, sir." Dobby turned to leave.

            "Wait."

            "Yes, sir?"

            "Er…thanks." If Ginny's smile was beautiful, Dobby's was too from sheer enthusiasm. Well, no, it wasn't, but it sure was enthusiastic.

            "Where do you want to go after this?" Pansy walked arm in arm with Blaise, who Draco had told his plan to and was now doing her best to distract Pansy. They were in Honeydukes, examining the shelves upon shelves of candy. The basket was in his pocket, having been shrunk, and it was a weight he was not used to. It reminded him of where he had to go and what he had to do.

            "I need to check in some jewelry shops for a gift for my mother," he told Crabbe and Goyle when Pansy was checking the price of Cloud Candies, a Chinese treat that had recently been introduced in England. Crabbe and Goyle were too distracted by the free samples tray to notice and since their mouths were too full, they could only grunt in response.

            He slid away easily through the sea of Hogwarts robes. The crowds thinned as he approached the Shack and then completely disappeared as he climbed the hill. She was already there, leaning against the side of the Shack, profiled against the trees. She watched as he walked to her.

            "Ready?"

            "Yup."

            He led the way through the woods. The Forbidden Forest wasn't as wild near Hogsmeade, mainly because the creatures that inhabited the forest didn't want to get too close to the humans in the settlement. The clearing was about 15 meters into the forest, the well-worn path covered for the first five meters by thick, magically-enhanced brush. He had never shown anyone this spot before.

            The clearing was small, the trees on all sides providing the illusion of privacy. In the spring the grass was lush and long, but as it was the end of November, the ground was frozen and foreboding. He took the basket out of his pocket, unshrunk it, spread the blanket on the ground, placed a warming charm on the blanket, then took her hand and assisted her onto the blanket as if he were helping her walk down stairs. The charm he had done worked well, the heat seeping through his cloak to heat him.

            "You thought of everything," she said, a little awed.

            "Well, I _have_ been trained in the arts of courtly etiquette."

            "Really?" He nodded.

            "If you ever need a waltzing partner, than I'm your man. I also know the proper response for persons of every title, with how much money, and level of evil."

            "And for persons of my lack of evil, title, and money the proper response is 'treat like scum'?"

            "Yes. You see how easily I defy tradition." She smiled.

            "What did you bring?"

            "To be honest, I don't know. Let's find out." They attacked the basket with the fervor of children unwrapping presents on Christmas morning. Dobby had packed a canteen of cream of corn soup, a tuna fish sandwich, a corned beef sandwich, an egg salad sandwich and – to Draco's surprise – a sandwich with Nutella and raspberry jam. He didn't expect Dobby to remember his favorite kind of sandwich. Along with the sandwiches were thinly sliced potatos that had been baked, another Manor staple, and a flask of Pumpkin juice. For dessert, there were small raspberry cheesecakes; he expected that he would be seeing more of these at dinner. "Which would you like?"

            "I'll take the tuna."

            "Good, then I can have my favorite." He reached for the sandwiches, passed hers to her. "I'm afraid Dobby thought that there was only going to be one person eating this so we'll have to share the drink. You can have the soup, if you like."

            "Isn't Dobby your old house-elf?"

            "Yeah." She chewed thoughtfully.

            "Then he would have made this lunch to your tastes."

            "I suppose he would have." She perused the food objects carefully.

            "Your favorite sandwich, of course, which is?"

            "Nutella and raspberry jam."

            "The potato slices, one of your favorite snacks?"

            "Best if lightly salted."

            "The other sandwiches…"

            "Are ones I find tolerable. Dobby used to make my lunches and I would complain if there was something I didn't like and he would be punished." He sipped from the flask. "Sometimes I would complain for fun."

            "But – that's horrible!"

            "Well I was a horrible little rascal," he said with cheeky affection. She looked back at the food.

            "Raspberry cheesecake? Two raspberry items?"

            "They're my favorite fruit."

            "I'll have to remember that." He could see his reflection in her eyes which were locked with his.

            "Are you a lesbian?" He interjected into the silence.

            "Am I a what!?!" She nearly dropped her sandwich.

            "Are you a lesbian?" He repeated.

"Oh, you abominable boy!  How could you even think…you muggle-hating…villain-worshipping…careless…FRUITCAKE!" He could almost feel the heat radiating off of her as she worked up her anger. She slapped him. It hurt.

"Ah. There's that temper…"

"WHAT TEMPER!?!" she shrieked, making another go at him, but he caught her arm.

"The Weasley temper. I'd been wondering where it had got to. You really shouldn't bottle up your emotions like that, Weasley, you might get a bad reaction."

"Ginny." She spat.

"Pardon?"

"My name's Ginny."

"No, I don't like Ginny much, and Gin makes you sound like some sort of tonic – though that's better that a fruitcake – but I'd be fine with Virginia." He caught her eyes again. They were still alight with her just-passed fury.

"Virginia it is." She looked at her hand, tingly from the contact with Draco's face and then at the red welt on his face. "Er…sorry about that." He chuckled.

"It's all right." She placed her hand on his cheek, much more gently than she had before. 

"No, it's not." The pain faded and she took her hand away. He touched his cheek, surprised.

"What did you do? And how did you do that?"

"I…I can do magic through my hands. Only healing magic and only simple things like healing cuts and bruises, or in your case welts." She looked down, as though she thought he would be ashamed of her.

"Virginia…" She seemed fascinated with his shoelace. He struggled for the right words. "That's a wonderful gift." She breathed shallowly, staring at a point on his shoulder and when she spoke, her voice was quiet and even.

"Fred and George used to tease me about never getting cuts or bruises when I was little. I had discovered that if I held my hand to the injury and thought about it being normal, it would become normal. Even my mum thought it was weird that I never got bumps and bruises as a toddler when I would walk into everything.

"Bill was the only one who never teased me about it, or at least not meanly. The others, they would get into trouble for their cuts and scrapes and since I never had any, I never got into trouble. He left, though, for Hogwarts when I was two and I would miss him horribly. Every time he came back he would bring me something. Sometimes it was a picture, often of his friends acting comically in the Gryfinndor common room, and when he was old enough to go to Hogsmeade he would bring sweets. I remember one time he brought home an entire bag of Fizzing Whizbees and Mum had to bring me down from the ceiling with her wand." She smiled in rememberance and continued, forgetting he was there. "My other brothers would play with me too, but we all divided into playgroups. Charlie would stick with the twins who stuck to each other. Percy was always more a loner, always worried we would get into trouble. One by one (or two) they all left for Hogwarts, making me miss them and they would come back with more stories that made me yearn for Hogwarts. Ron and I were great friends until he left for Hogwarts and came back with new friends and plenty of exciting stories. When he talked about Harry – I had seen him on the platform and though he wasn't particularly attention grabbing, I thought about him almost constantly because he was The Boy Who Lived – he had all these heroic stories about Quidditch and the Philosopher's Stone…what I could I do but have a crush on him. And all summer long I thought about going to Hogwarts, I was finally going to _be there_ and _he_ would be there too. I was so excited. Bill came back one week in mid-July. He had been in Egypt working for Gringotts and I was so happy to see him. He was much bigger than I was, always has been until recently, and he swung me around like Papa used to when I was little and he was younger. The last day he was there, he gave me this." She pulled her necklace out of her shirt and showed him the charm. "It's an Ankh, an Egyptian symbol of immortality. It belonged to Nefertiti, wife of the Pharaoh Akhenaten. She was supposed to be the most beautiful Egyptian woman and he had helped break into her tomb. He's allowed to keep one object from every raid, you see, and this was his first." She fingered it lovingly as she spoke. 

"Muggles can not find the tomb because it has Muggle repelling charms all over it. Her own husband did not even know she was a witch. The only person who knew, was her favorite artisan, a man names Thotmas. They were lovers and he made the most famous Egyptian bust that the Muggles have, and when you look at it, you can see how much he loved her. He was a muggle, and swore not to reveal her secret, but her husband discovered their affair. Akhenaten burst into Thotmas' workshop when Thotmas was completing the bust, and killed him, but he could not bring himself to destroy the statues of his beautiful wife. Nefertiti, already having heard of her husband's discovery, shut herself in the tomb she had already prepared for herself. She placed the charms and jinxes and obstacles to prevent any Muggle or Wizard from entering before climbing into her sarcophagus and suffocating herself. The hieroglyphs she had carved on the wall told her reason: to live without my love would not be living at all.

"The bust still remains incomplete, only an eye left undone. When Bill broke into the chamber, he found this necklace with her wand. The lid to the sarcophagus had been levitated on and the wand and necklace were still grasped in her skeletal hand. One arm had been folded over her heart, like a customary Egyptian corpse, but the other, her wand arm, lay defiantly straight, stretched out beside her body. She was left handed, like I am.

"The Ankh is a symbol of the Egyptian Gods, symbolizing immortality. Bill said it was for good luck. He said not to worry about school. She had taken it off before she died, as if when she wore it, she could not die. He thought maybe it would protect me in some way. But it didn't. First year was horrible, and the only thing the necklace did for me was keep me alive…" She looked up at him, remembering he was there, then rolled onto her back to avoid his gaze. "You're not interested in this stuff, though."

"Why wouldn't I be?" he asked, moving closer to her so that he looked down over her. He wondered what the necklace had been keeping her alive from.

"Because you're you."

"And…"

"And this is just petty, little-girl stuff. You want big-girl stuff; snogging and the like."

"You're right, I do." His little self would have cheered if it had a mouth. He bent over her and she closed her eyes, opening them when she realized he was simply hovering. "Tell me something, Virginia."

"Anything," she breathed, and at that moment she felt she would.

"Are you a lesbian?"

"Are you tactless?"

"Completely, now answer my question." He still hadn't moved.

"I've had boyfriends in the past: Micheal Corner, Dean Thomas. And how could you forget my wonderful, tease-worthy crush on Harry Potter."

"But you don't have a boyfriend now. So answer my question."

"No, I'm not."

"Good." And he kissed her, brushing his lips gently to hers before pressing them more firmly against hers. She was eager, pushing her tongue into his mouth and he moved over her as she deepened their kiss. She moaned as he pressed his stiffened self to her, wanting her to know exactly what he felt and for her to do something about it. Thier mouths devoured each other in hot fury. She didn't care that they were snogging in broad daylight, in a place anyone who wanted to could see them. He tasted familiar; kissing him was like coming home.

"You know," he stopped kissing her, voicing the snide comment that had leapt into his mind, "You probably know more about the Ancient Egyptians than Granger." And then he devoured her some more.

That night he lay awake in bed. If he thought hard enough his lips tingled with her kiss and his body hummed with her touch. All they had done was snog, upsetting the picnic basket in the process. She had started laughing, rolling her body snuggly into his as she shook and he had laughed too when she tickled him. He had finally stopped her wandering fingertips and they decided to part ways, lest someone discover them. The rest of the day he had spent wandering the streets with the other Slytherins, looking for presents for father and his newly released aunt and uncle. Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange had been released from Azkaban by the Dark Lord a year ago; he didn't know them well. He had picked out some serpent shaped earrings for his aunt, and matching serpent cuff-links for his uncle, both silver.

Sighing, he rolled onto his side. He had bought something for Ginny too, but wondered whether or not he would give it to her. Sure they did their homework together almost every night, and had talked a bit after homework. Last week he had only sat with Blaise because he felt guilty abandoning her every night. She didn't seem to mind, asking how his "project" was going. His project would be over tomorrow and then he could forget all about his snog with Ginny Weasley.

_Her hair shone around her like a halo. She was tickling him and he laughed, trying to roll away from her on the down mattress, which made him sink farther in. He caught her hands and shoved them over her head, pinning her beneath him. She didn't mind and kissed him. He had never been kissed like this. She used her tongue to tease him, licking at his tongue playfully. They were naked beneath the sheets._

_The room was very pale, the walls painted a pale yellow even lighter than his hair, the sheets were  a pale pink, the furniture was  made of a whitewashed yellow wood. She leaned on a __sea_ of ___Teddy bears__ and dolls, and she pulled him down with her, burying them in the stuffed animals until they found the pillow. It too was pink, edged in yellow lace with a faded picture of a unicorn on it. Light peeked through the stuffed animals, lighting her face. She grinned wickedly and kissed him again, wrapping her arms around him like he was her favorite plaything. He somehow knew he was._

_Lovingly, he touched her body, stroking his hands along her breasts, her stomach, the dimples in her lower back that he knew were sensitive. His hair wasn't slicked back and her hand played with it, stroking it and measuring its length down his face. She tucked a bit in his mouth and he laughed and she laughed with him and he hugged her to him, happy to have her there._

_She wasn't satisfied with his hugs and moved on top of him, touching him in the place that wanted it the most and kissing his wrists, making him shiver with desire. The stuffed animals had fallen off or been pushed off the bed and he could see her clearly as she lowered herself onto him, the morning light making her glow. He had heard of people glowing after sex or pregnant women glowing, but never during sex. He breasts bounced and he watched, mesmerized until the inevitable happened and she collapsed on him, breathing heavily. She was slick with her sweat, and he with his own, and they fell asleep like that curled together in the sheets._

_"Thank you, Draco," she said._

~~~~~

So that was the chapter that caused the rating – well, no, it wasn't, that was the first chapter. But being a former NC-17 writer, I can't help but slip a little wet dream in from time to time. This was by far the easiest chapter to write. It sped out of me with such rapidity and movement that I haven't felt since I wrote 16 pages for "Pigeons Plot in Secrecy" in one sitting. Nutella, for those who don't know what it is, is hazelnut butter. It's got some chocolate in it and is very good. I recommend you all go and buy it as a treat to your taste buds.

The stuff about Nefertiti is a mixture of fact and fiction. Let me sort out the fact for you. Nefertiti was married to Akhenaten, an Ancient Egyptian pharaoh. Akhenaten was very ahead of the times, renouncing the polytheistic religion of his predecessors and creating a new monotheistic one. He moved the capital to Akhetaten which he planned and had built for them. Little is known about Nefertiti except that she was beautiful, so beautiful that they said she could not be described. After their deaths, censors scoured Egypt, destroying and defacing any statues or mentions in writing they could find of Akhenaten and his wives. Nefertiti's tomb has not been found. They were forgotten.

Thotmas was one of the artisans that worked on Akhetaten. The bust of Nefertiti does exist, it was found in his shop along with several other statues of her. Only these were untouched and her beauty shows through the gentle carving. The bust is done in a realistic style, unlike traditional statues, and seems to have an almost personal touch to it. Because the artisan's shoppe had been overlooked and not looked for, the statues within were kept wonderfully preserved. The main flaw to it is that one eye has been left undone. There is much speculation as to why this eye was never finished. Some say Thotmas refused to finish it because of an altercation with Nefertiti. Others say he left his shop before he could finish and never got the chance to return, forced out and taking the eye piece with him. Others say that they were lovers and Nefertiti broke the affair off and he refused to finish the eye. At first, it was thought the eye simply fallen out, but the workshop has been scoured and the piece that belongs there was never found. What seems true is that a great amount of care and passion went into the piece; I feel it must have been a lover's passion that made him carve her in such a realistic manner, contrary to traditional art. I have already supplied my version of the story.

Adie: I'm keeping you in suspense about the "mysterious shadows", BWAHAHAHAHA – erm, sorry. I forgot myself for a minute.

Anime10473: lol, you're just a bubble of energy, aren't you? Thank you for the lovely, long review and your many suggestions. Even though I already had this chapter planned and half-written I did think about them but the mystery guy suggestion made me change one sentence I had already written, so thank you very much. I'm sorry I made Draco so tactless, but how easy is it to ask "Are you a lesbian?" It's like asking someone on the Underground: "How would you like to come home with me tonight and dance naked in the moonlight?" So Draco has no tact. Sorry. ;-).

SicDreamsInc: Don't worry, I won't tell anyone, lol. And I don't mind if you use the Chinese language. It's not mine after all. It's such a beautiful language, or at least Manderin is. It's like whispering on the wind ::sigh:: and Cantonese is harsh and angry…I'd equate it to how German sound to us English speakers but more natural for me so I'll just live with my angry speech, which is heavily accented anyways. Wow, I got off on a major tangent. By the way, those are dialects.

jane-valar: Even if you're not much of a reviewer (I'm using your words, not mine) I still appreciate you taking the time to review. And everyone wants to know about the mystery people, even me – wait I _do know who those are. ::grins wickedly:: _

Gothic Retaliation: Thanks!

Ren: As I said to Anime, Draco has no tact. He's a teenage boy and therefore had no tact. I surely hope I'm keeping true the characters; I like to avoid altering canon as much as possible. Besides, Harry Potter's like the Bible for me. No. I lied. That would be the "Kama Sutra".

You reviewers are my heroes. I'm going to sleep and dream happy Draco/Ginny dreams with reviews floating around my head like cherubs and smile because I am in review heaven. ::sigh:: You people make me so happy!


	5. though hell should bar the way

Disclaimer: I don't intend to infringe on any copyright laws, I just want to exercise my freedom of speech.****

**…though hell should bar the way**

Blaise refused to mention the Hogsmeade weekend, cutting him off whenever he mentioned Virginia. But when he went to the library she came with him. He had hoped she wouldn't; Virginia and he had a lot to figure out.

Blaise had slept with her hair in braids so that her hair now waved like a dark waterfall to her waist. A pair of amber clips he had given her for her birthday held her hair out of her eyes as she studied her assignment. Draco felt restless and kept looking at Ginny. She was alone, working like a good girl should, but he couldn't talk to her and so he forced his mind on homework. Glancing sideways one last time, he noticed the Triumphant Trio come up and take seats at the table: Potter beside her, Weasley across from her, and Granger next to Weasley. They had never sat with her before.

"Here they come to save the day…" he sang softly.

"What's that?"

"It's my rendition of the 'Mighty Mouse' theme song."

"'Mighty Mouse'? Oh you mean that Muggle cartoon you tried to watch when you were younger."

"It's not my fault that Muggles throw away perfectly functioning televisions."

"Television? Never mind, I'll have you going on for ages." She sighed and glanced at the table where the Gryfindors sat. Her eyes stayed.

"Draco?"

"Yeah."

"Y'know how I said there was no coming back from the Dark Side?" Her voice was breathy and her cheeks flushed.

"What about it?"

"I think I just came back." He followed her gaze which was locked on the Boy Who Lived. "I thought," She continued equally breathlessly, "that because I didn't like boys that I must like girls. But I think I like this boy. I think I like him a lot."

"Then I don't need to tell you about Virginia." Blaise didn't respond, entranced. He waved a hand in front of her eyes and she swatted it away.

"You can have her." Draco grinned.

"As if I needed your blessing." Blaise now had a dreamy look to her face, her eyes glassy, as if her memory had just been modified. He had always wondered what Blaise looked like when she was aroused. He looked back at Potter. He was making unsuccessful advances on Ginny, touching her hand and reading over her shoulder. Finally, Virginia arched an eyebrow, said something to him, and then returned to her work. Weasley and Granger exchanged a look and Potter didn't bother her again.

Draco sighed and went back to his work. An hour later (and halfway through his Potions assignment) he wondered what he should do next. Virginia was special. When she kissed him, she was special. When she touched him, she was special. When she talked to him, and when she was in his dreams, she was special. All the specialness made her dangerous to herself. She couldn't be so special; she'd attracted too much attention. And that was without mentioning her healing gift.

Deciding, Draco wrote a quick note and got up, telling Blaise that he was headed to the bathroom. He doubted she noticed, keeping busy between glances at the Boy Who Lived and her homework. As he walked between the tables, he knocked Ginny's book off the table. With a snide "Watch where you put your things, Weasley.", he slipped the note inside the sprawled pages, closed the book, and dropped it unceremoniously on the table top. As he left, he saw her discretely slip the note from the book to under her parchment and read it. _Meet me in the __Astronomy__Tower__ at 10. Do not be late. I won't wait for you._

Draco went to his room earlier than usual. He had dragged an unwilling Blaise back to the common room and she now sat, perched on the edge of the bed, eyeing him like a bird of prey that had just had dinner snatched away by him.

"So, what are you going to do about her."

"I'm meeting her tonight."

"Really? That was fast…"

"I'm going to break it off."

"You know…if I pretended to date you and she pretended to date Harry, we could switch without anyone suspecting anything," Blaise fantasized, ignoring Draco's comment.

"There's a lot of things I don't understand about you Blaise. First, how could you think you were a lesbian for 3 years and suddenly discover that you're not? Second, haven't you seen Potter before, making him no new discovery? Third, why not me last year? And last, how the hell did you get on a first name basis with Potter without having talked to him." Blaise grinned wickedly.

"First, I already told you. I never actually had a crush on a girl, I just never had a crush on a boy and so I thought I must like girls. Second, seeing him up close brings him into a whole new light. His eyes are like emeralds in porcelain skin…but I have no knack for poetry so I'll stop. Third, I could never get over the creamy, white thighs that I saw in third year when I walked into the shower room at the wrong time. They were so scrawny! And last, there wasn't much time to talk when I was getting to _know_ him."

"Damn the Bible and its innuendos." He groaned, banishing the thought from his mind.

"So where are you meeting her?"

"The Astronomy Tower." Blaise grinned.

"You're already up to that level, eh?"  
            "You don't know the half of it." And she didn't. He hadn't told her about his encounter with Ginny under the invisibility cloak.

"Tell me."

"Well, Once upon a time…" His fairy tale was interrupted by his owl, carrying a letter tied with a green ribbon and sealed with the Malfoy Crest. Hermes, his owl, was completely black with lamp-like yellow eyes. He flapped around Draco's head before settling on Draco's outstretched arm. After Draco untied the letter from Hermes' leg, Hermes flew away. Blaise waited patiently as he unrolled the letter.

_Draco,_

_He does not wish to delay any longer. To ensure you are prepared, he will be initiating you into the circle a week after Christmas Day. You have been notified._

_Lucius Malfoy_

            Draco cursed.

            "What's wrong?" He tossed the letter at her.

            "Oh dear."

            "Exactly."

            "Well, I think its time for bed," she said cheerfully, bouncing off the bed. He knew this to conceal distress, but he let her go, staring at the letter in his hand. He had no choice but to break it off tonight.

            The Astronomy Tower was deserted. They would have three hours until the Astronomy Class began and he was glad for the peace and solace of the Tower. Moonlight glanced off gleaming telescopes and patterned the stone floor. The room took up the entire circumference of the tower, making it circular. In the center, on a platform was a giant telescope that poked through an opening in the roof. Around the platform, steps wound in a circle. It was on the lowest step Draco sat to wait.

            She wasn't late, but a bit breathless when she came in.

            "I had a close call with Filch."

            "Oh, I forgot to tell you about the staircase behind the portrait of the wizard's dueling."

            "It's ok. I wasn't caught."

            "Well use it anyways. The password's _Expelliarmus_. Just be sure you're not holding your wand when you say it."

            "Thanks." She sat next to him.

            "Listen. The snog was great, and you're a really nice girl to talk to, but we can't do this anymore."

            "Can't do what? Snog? I'd be ok with just being friends."

            "No, we can't even do that."

            "Then why bother being nice in the first place."

            "Blaise asked me to find out if you were a lesbian."

            "She's a lesbian? Wow. She's not bad looking either…"

            "Was a lesbian. She thinks she's straight because Potter turned her on." Ginny grinned.  
            "Still, there's hope for me."

            "Will you let me watch?" He asked hopefully.

            "No." She stood and walked towards one of the telescopes. He couldn't prevent himself from watching her butt as she walked, fascinated by the alternating tensing and relaxing.

            "Is there a hole in my robes?"

            "No." He swallowed, trying to think of cold things so that his little man would stop saluting her. She bent over and looked in of the telescopes. The moonlight made her freckles stand out like stars against her skin like…like in his dream. She looked across the room at him and he walked over to her.

            "I hate your father. He made me miss Astronomy Class." Catching the puzzled look on his face, she continued.

            "He gave me diary in my first year. Not directly, he slipped it into my books at Flourish and Blotts." Draco remembered the diary. He also remembered his father telling him to stay away from the Weasley girl. Not that he would have come near her; she was muggle-loving filth. "It was so nice to have someone to tell everything to, a friend I could keep in my pocket. I spent hours writing in it: during class, after homework. I didn't make friends with the other girls in my year; I already had one who was better than they could ever be. The diary was enchanted, you see. It could talk back. I loved it. He said his name was Tom Riddle and he couldn't tell me secrets to anyone because I was the only one who knew about him.

"Then there were times that year when I couldn't remember anything. It was like someone had written down my memories and torn out the most recent ones, paragraph by paragraph, page by page. It scared me. All these awful things were happening, and I couldn't remember where I was or what I was doing when it happened. He possessed me to control me so that he could have a body to act on the world. Eventually I began to suspect myself and Tom overpowered me, forcing me to imprison myself in the Chamber of Secrets from which I had been releasing the basilisk that was petrifying all the muggle-borns. Slowly, he drained me of my life source, but the more he drained, the harder it became. He didn't know why, but it took longer than it should have. When Harry saved me my life had almost completely been transferred but the last bit clung to me. Tom didn't notice; he was too busy dealing with Harry. When Harry destroyed the diary, it all came back, shocking me back into living. I don't know why I survived, but I think it was the Ankh. Unknowlingly, Bill saved my life." Ginny was in his arms now, and he held her like he would never let her go. If he had his way, he never would. But he couldn't have his way.

"You told me a memory, shall I tell you one of mine?" She snuggled more deeply into him.

"I walked down a deserted corridor, cloaked in my brand new invisibility cloak. I was on my way to meet someone here for a fucking when I tripped on a foot, can you imagine whose foot it was? " She didn't respond. "I decided to have a little fun and scare the person. I did and then went on my way. The evening seemed to be a good one. I got here, and found out that my date has gone. I was 15 minutes late. So I went back and terrorized the poor creature again. I ended up taking away her virginity and she my sanity. She never saw me, I made sure by placing a blinding charm on her. Do you know who the person was now?" She looked up at him and he released her. She backed away.

"It was you." She had a bemused sort of grin on her face. He nodded solemnly. "I…I'm so happy it's you, although I have to admit that at times I did suspect…" His head shot up.

            "You're not angry?" He was bewildered. He had practically forced himself on her.

"That was one of the best moments of my life." He stepped farther from her.

            "Draco, I'm pregnant."

            "No." He was shocked. It had only been once.

            "Yes, I am." She stretched the shirt tight across her middle and turned sideways. He could see a lump beginning to form.

            "Why didn't you tell me?"

            "I just did. Besides I only figured it out this morning."

            "How could you have not noticed that you hadn't had your menstrual cycle in three months?"

            "It's irregular, and it wasn't until I noticed my middle growing that I actually thought about it." She patted her tummy. "Why are you mad at me? It's not like I intended to sleep with you."

            "Because carrying my child puts you in more danger than before. We have to get rid of it."

            "Is that what you want?" she asked tearfully. He stopped. No, it wasn't what he wanted. It was nice to think a part of him was inside her, and had been inside her for three months. It was nice to think that the child would be theirs, something he could share with her for their entire lives.

            "Yes," he lied.

            "Well too bad, I'm not getting rid of it."

            "Ginny…"

            "I thought you said you didn't like that name."

            "I do – don't – do. I just…look." He passed her the letter his father had sent to him. She read it in silence and looked up at him.

            "I'm sorry." There, he thought, I won.

            "What does this have to do with us?"

            "What do you mean? I'm going to be a Death Eater. I'm going to kill people, and eat babies for breakfast, and have a permanent, ugly snake tattooed on my arm. I'm going to have bloodstains on my hands where you have inkstains. I'm going to be _evil_." She looked like she was about to laugh.

            "You don't really mean that, do you?"

            "I meant every word."

            "Then tell me, oh vile one, why do you seem so willing to get an ugly tattoo."

            "I never said anything about being willing."

            "That's true." She was smiling, showering him with radiance.

            "What is it?"

            "I think I have a way out."

            "No, there's no way out."

            "Draco…"

            "Fuck it, Ginny. Rape your fucking idea to death, throw it in the well to drown it and make sure it's dead, then fill in the well. I will not put you in danger." He swept into cloak and vanished into the scenery. Ginny, rushed at the place he had been, but met empty air. Across the room the door opened. She ran to it, hearing echoing steps in the hall.

"I love you, Draco." The steps stopped. Surely she hadn't said it that loudly. Desperately, she tried to keep his attention. "I love you. It can't help you, and it sure as hell can't help me, but I can't do anything about it. I can't make you richer. I can't make you stronger. I'm not prettier to look at nor am I as graceful as some women. I won't clean your house for you or sew graceful, embroidered pillows. I can't do what you expect me to do, and I won't do what you tell me to do. I can't see any way that I can help you as our union will destroy our hatred bond and our families will feel we've betrayed them. But I can love you – I do love you – and maybe that will make you better."

"I didn't need your pity and I don't need your love." His voice flew with the anger in his words. Tears pricked her eyes.

"You do need my pity and my love, as much as I need yours and I need yours a great deal. You need me, and need you, and we need each other and that's what makes us work. That's why there should be an 'us'." He didn't respond, but the light pitter-patter of his feet told her he was leaving. She didn't follow him. He didn't want her to.

Tears streamed down her face as returned to the spot where she had last seen him and she sank to the ground, curling into a ball. In the moonlight lay a dark green ribbon. She picked it up.

Draco entered the Potions classroom and took his usual seat. Snape approached him.

"The Headmaster would like to speak with you. I am to take you up straight away." Draco hadn't unpacked his things so he shouldered his bag and stood. Snape led him through the drafty castle to a giant gargoyle.

"_Chocolate Frogs!" Snape said and the gargoyle leapt aside. "Up. The stairs will take you to the Headmaster's office." Snape spoke truth, for the stairs stopped at a plain, oak door with the 'Headmaster' written in gold. He knocked._

"Come in." Draco had never been in the Headmaster's office before. The walls were filled with sleeping portraits of Headmasters of yesteryear and the tables lined with odd gadgets. Where there were not portraits, there were bookshelves filled with books. In the middle of the room, Dumbledore sat, writing a letter. He looked at Draco with kind eyes when he entered. "I have been expecting you." Draco did not know what to say. "Come, sit down. You are undoubtedly wondering why you have been called here." Draco sat in one of the comfortable chairs in front of Dumbledore's desk. Dumbledore was either very messy or very involved in something; pieces of parchment littered the tabletop except for a few places where there was another metal whatsit. Dumbledore put down his quill and folded his hands on the desk.

"I have it from a good source that you do not like where you are headed. I can help." Draco's mouth was dry.

"No, you cannot."

"You are right, of course," Dumbledore sighed. Bewildered, Draco glanced at the light-blue eyes behind the half-moon spectacles for a hint at Dumbledore's intent. He found none. "I can not ensure that you will have no involvement in the war. But none of us can avoid that. But you can help stop the war, maybe even help prevent it." Draco's ears sharpened on the words. "It all depends, of course, on what you want." Draco knew what he wanted, and he was pretty sure it involved Ginny chasing after a blond-haired child that had been the product of many hours of lovemaking. But he knew from experience all it took was one try.

"I know what I want."

"Good." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled and his hand went into his pocket to withdraw a tin. "Lemon Drop?" he offered, and Draco accepted, feeling very odd taking candy from the headmaster. Dumbledore's hands were wrinkled, with heavily protruding veins. Unusually, there were no sunspots. The sweet had no particular magical effect, just a simple enticement of lemon. Draco avoided Dumbledore's wise gaze by staring at a point just over his left shoulder. "I wish to know, in your own words, what is the situation you are in?"

"I am to be initiated into the Dark Lord's closest circle a week after Christmas."

"So soon?" Dumbledore frowned as he plopped another lemon drop in his mouth. "Then we do not have much time."

"Sir?"

"Yes, Mr. Malfoy."

"How exactly will I be…saved, as it were."

"You won't be. You'll become a spy." Draco nearly swallowed his lemon drop. "Welcome," Dumbledore said, extending his hand, "to the Order of the Pheonix."

~~~~~

The title is from "The Highway Man" by Alfred Noyes. You might notice it completes the line, which is intentional because the 'incident' came up again. I have already put the full poem in the first chapter. About the dream in **Hogsmeade**, not starting from a memory, I'll say this: it sort of did. She tickled him earlier that day and the dream started off with tickling. All the previous dreams have had the scenery stay the same and the actions differ. This time, the scenery changed and the actions mimicked those of his memory.

DreamofTF: "Masterpiece theater is like Wishbone for adults." Lol, my boyfriend said that. Thanks for complimenting me so.

Anime10473: I think if Draco and Ginny were incarnations, Draco would be Nefertiti, not Ginny, lol. Thanks for the long review, it's very nice not to just get one-liners all the time. I'll think about the 19th century portrait thing…it may have some importance. And I'm glad you picked up on the glowing/radiance of her. It'll be important. About it not staring from a memory; (I said this above) it sort of did. She tickled him earlier that day and the dream started off with tickling. All the previous dreams have had the scenery stay the same and the actions differ. This time, the scenery changed and the actions mimicked those of his memory.

Dru Sharpeye: Mmph ::can't talk because jaws are cemented shut with Nutella.

Adie: ::cheere:: NC-17 ROCKS! (or makes squishy penis' into long hard throbbing rock-hard members). And you forget all about those shadows or you won't sleep well and we can't have _that_ not can we?

TrulyLovly: Thanks for you flattery. You make me feel truly lovely ::chuckles::

Gwuinivyre: Isn't he? It's a pity he's fictional. ::sigh:: we'll just have to make due with Tom Felton.

Changeling: thank you for the worship. You are now blessed.

Ennui: It's good I'm not wasting away my summer holidays, yes? I love figuring these things out.

Bliss: So sorry, for my characterization flaw. Ah, well, I couldn't make him a big bully when he's just a sweet little damson pie in his heart. Well, maybe a raspberry pie.

SicDreamsInc: It's been down, all right. I couldn't post this chapter because of it. Kisses are great fun, don't you think? Thanks for being such a faithful reviewer. And since the next chapter's half done, I doubt you'll have to wait long…

Thank you for reviews. I feel all warm and fuzzy inside, like I just drank hot chocolate. Speaking of which…::slurp::…yum…


	6. Escape

Disclaimer: I don't intend to infringe on any copyright laws, I just want to exercise my freedom of speech.****

**Escape**

            Draco had heard about the Order of the Pheonix. They worked against the Dark Lord, a sort of secret elite that ferreted out information from the Dark Lord. The Dark Lord despised and feared them above everything else, except perhaps Dumbledore. And maybe Harry Potter. But to be a spy for them…

            "You are untainted and could more useful than Professor Snape. Because Voldemort knows that he is a spy, he can not get as much information as he used to be able to. But you, backed by your father, could do very well. Of course, you must be willing to do this. I do not believe in forcing people." Draco was stunned. It was a way out, a dangerous way out, but wasn't she already in enough danger anyways? And if he did this, maybe he would have a chance with her. Maybe he would escape the fate that had been set for him.

            "I don't like you," he began, not knowing where his words came from, "You've got far too much influence over people. I don't like Muggles; I think they're stupid. I don't like Mudbloods; they're diluting our purity. I don't like Hagrid; I think he's a giant oaf. I don't like Potter and his friends; I think they've been given far too much slack. But I will do this if I can have a chance with-" he stopped himself. Dumbledore's looked sincere but his eyes twinkled with a smile. "A chance at a new beginning without my father's memory dragging me down. But I don't come cheap. I want two things." Mildly surprised, Dumbledore nodded for him to continue.

            "I want to be able to ensure my mother's safety if she needs to get away from home. And I want Blaise Zambini to be initiated as well."

            "The former I can ensure but I am not sure about Miss Zambini."

            "Well I am. She's like me, caught between duty and desire. She thinks Voldemort is a crazy, old bat. She's the only real friend I've got in Slytherin house. Besides she's very er…faithful to Potter." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled.

            "Then I will have a chat with her."

            "Erm…Thanks."

            "Well, now that I'm your spy, I have a bit of information for you." Dumbledore paused, looking at him with interest. "As you know, I am to be initiated a week after Christmas. Originally, it was intended that I be initiated the day after I graduated from Hogwarts. The day after that was to be my wedding. The initiation, I suppose, was my father's idea of a bachelor's party. In his last letter, my father wrote that Voldemort is getting restless and wants to go to battle.

"I think that more students will be initiated; not just me. I suspect Crabbe and Goyle as their fathers are members. Millicent Bulstrode has a chance, but she's not very interested in the Cause. There should be a Ravenclaw or two, but I doubt any Gryfindors and Hufflepuffs. The Dark Lord thinks their blood has been tainted too much by Muggles. He will not seek them out."

"Thank you, Draco, for this information."

"It's – I thought you ought to know."

"Would you like another lemon drop? No? Very well then. I'll contact you within the week. Be careful and do not let anyone know what you are." 

"Well, g'bye then. And er… thanks." Draco left, the gargoyle springing out of place to let him through.

"I'll be careful," he thought, "if not for my sake then for hers."

_Draco__,_

_            You will have received an identical letter as Blaise. You must pretend to start dating each other. You will find out why in a few days, once everything is arranged. This message will ignite as soon as you have finished reading it._

            The corners of the parchment burst into flame, just as the letter said it would, and Draco had just enough time to toss it into the fire before he was burnt. What arrangement? Were Blaise and he to work together? And Blaise, this meant she must have been accepted into the Order too. 

He went to find her and when he did (she was sitting in the common room, staring at the fire while around her other Slytherin Girls compared clothes from the Gladrags Catalog, Teen Witch Weekly, Malkins' Must Haves, and Accio Footwear) he gave her a peck on the cheek before squeezing in beside her and draping his arm around her. She looked surprised at first, then melted into him as if she were chocolate and he was a warm fire. Pansy's eyes narrowed.

            "So you've finally started dating, have you?" Pansy snapped, glaring over her magazine. Blaise smiled and put her hand on his knee.

            "Well it was only a matter of time before I gave in to this lovely creature. You were so persistent." She tapped her finger on his nose affectionately.

            "You've been around each other so much this year, I would think you would have progressed much farther than affectionate taps," Pansy snarled, challenging the validity of their union. Draco had expected this.

            "I don't kiss and tell." By this time, a crowd of interested Slytherins had gathered around them. It wasn't every day that two of the most sought after Slytherins decided to get together, even though there was an awful lot of swapping partners.

            "You two would be kissing by now, I think, having had plenty of time to get to know each other already," Marcus Flint taunted. Draco knew he had always thought Blaise was attractive and thought that he probably only wanted to use the image of Draco and Blaise kissing to fuel his self pleasure. He was about to object to this when Blaise cut him off. 

            "This is not a peep house. We do not snog on command and when we do snog, you all will _not be watching," She said, her voice clipped with unspoken threats._

            "Harpy," Pansy muttered, turning the page of her catalog.

            "Pardon?" Draco said.

            "Nothing, Draco."

            "I certainly hope it was nothing. We wouldn't want you to have said anything that would require me to defend my girlfriend's honor, now would we."

            "No," Pansy replied, trying to sneer but only ending up wrinkling her nose and pulling up the corners of her lips in an extremely unattractive manner, "we would not."

            "Draco, all this talk about snogging…" Blaise's hand traveled further up his leg. He could feel himself stirring, as was natural because he was male, but was surprised at the degree he was aroused. He had only stiffened partially, but it was gradual, unlike the almost immediate arousal he felt around Ginny. He looked at Blaise, took her hand away from his crotch, and led her to his room. Once there, the vixen Blaise melted away to reveal normal Blaise. He was relieved.

            "So you got the note?" he asked sitting on the bed.

            "And you?" she responded, following him.

            "Yeah." 

" I also got this." She withdrew a folded piece of parchment marked with the Malfoy Crest and showed him the letter.

_Miss Zambini,_

_            It has come to my attention that you are spending a great deal of time with my son. I can only hope that this relationship will bring you forward into the cause. If you are interested, save Draco the date of January 1 and ask him to bring you with him. Your brother and father will be pleased._

_                                                                        Lucius Malfoy_

            "It'll be easier for you to do this than I thought."

            "So you know everything about me."

            "Know? I suggested you!"

            "Dumb-" Draco clapped a hand over her mouth.

            "Sh…you don't know who could be listening." Blaise silenced, and he removed his hand.

            "Well, he told me about you."

            "What about me?"

            "He told me that you joined, and asked me a couple of questions. He said we'll be leaving in a couple of days."

            "Leaving for where?"

            "Headquarters. We have to know who's a member."

            "Do you know how he's going to get us there?"

"I don't. We'll most likely fly because setting up an illegal portkey would be too dangerous and we can't Apparate –"

            "Speak for yourself."

            "You can Apparate?"

            "Yeah, my father taught me." Blaise ran her hand over the comforted. Silver snakes coiled around the edges with another silver snake coiled in an S around a silver and black M in the middle. "I wonder why my father doesn't use that parchment burning charm on his letters," Draco said, making weak conversation.

            "He probably doesn't know about it."

            "I guess not." Blaise continued to smooth the cover.

            "Are you worried at all?" she asked, finally.

            "About what?"

            "About getting caught."

            "Of course I'm worried. But think about the alternative."

            "I don't really want to. I'm not doing this for me, you know."

            "Neither am I." Ginny's face swum into his mind and he banished it for the moment.

            "I'm not doing this for you either." She grinned.

            "Oh, Blaise. You've broken my heart," he cried, placing his hand over his heart in mock hurt. She smiled.

            "What are friends for?"

            "Blaise, can't you wait until we get to the dungeons?" 

On Dumbledore's orders, Blaise had been flirting and groping him throughout Herbology. They had been talking in whispers just loud enough for their neighbors to hear them, Blaise saying a number of lewd things to him that suggested to the world what they would do immediately after class let out. Professor Sprout didn't seem to notice. The Alihotsy shrubs they were pruning seemed ordinary, but because eating leaves made people hysterical, they were required to wear hankerchiefs over their mouths. Draco thought Pansy was on the verge of hysteria anyways and didn't need the hankerchief. 

The bell rang and with one final clip, he finished pruning the shrub. There was a rush to clean up because it was the last class of the day, but Draco and Blaise took their time, touching whenever they could for public display. When everyone was filing out of the greenhouse, Blaise and Draco snuck into a corner. They didn't kiss, Blaise hadn't been kissed yet and he didn't want to be the first, but they made it look like they were snogging. At the front of the room, Draco could hear Granger talking to Professor Sprout about their homework. Suddenly, he heard a painfully high pitched cry and felt Blaise go weak against him before he went weak against her.

            When he opened his eyes, the world was very blurry and very white. His vision cleared and he saw they were in the hospital wing, lying in one of the beds. In the bed on the left was Ginny, lying very still, and on the right Blaise was sitting up, looking very confused. He probably looked like that scant seconds before. Across from him lay Potter, Granger and Weasley. Madam Pomphrey was poring something into a funnel that went down a tube into Granger's throat. Weasley was sitting up like he was; Potter stirred slightly before making a very unpleasant face and shooting into a sitting position. Off to the side stood Dumbledore, surrounded by six young wizards.

            "What happened?" he asked, but Dumbledore just smiled. He noticed Professor Sprout a couple of beds down, still unconscious. It wasn't until both Granger and Ginny were fully awake that Dumbledore spoke.

            "You were knocked out by a Mandrake cry. It was teenager, so it should have knocked you out for a couple of weeks, but we had some Mandrake Juice. These six–" he gestured to the wizards behind him "– will be taking your places in the hospital wing. We only have enough juice left after reviving you all to revive Professor Sprout and she needs to teach her classes. Without the juice, you would wake up in about 2 weeks. That would be 3 days before January 1. I cannot explain the situation to you now, you must explain everything to each other on the train. I am going to give each of you a flask of polyjuice potion. You need to pull out a few of your hairs and put them in the potion. Then exchange your flask with one of theirs. You must drink their potion and they will drink yours. Be careful not to spill any of the potion; you might need your identity if you are to venture out into London." 

Without hesitating, Draco followed his directions. Each of them exchanged flasks with one of the strangers. Draco chose a rather good-looking blule-eyed man. If he was going to look like someone else, he didn't want to look like a hag. 

Draco stared at the flask in his hand. He knew polyjuice potion tasted horrible. He saw Potter, Granger, and Weasley hesitating as well. Blaise and Ginny swiftly drank the potion, gasped, and doubled over to clutch their stomachs. Granger grabbed Ginny's flask and Draco grabbed Blaise's before it fell to the ground.  When she had stopped groaning, he returned her flask to her and she capped it. He then drank his own potion, closing the cap as his hands began to shake. He hunched slightly as his stomach churned, the potion burning into him. He felt like he was melting, his body being reshaped into a tanner, shorter, wider man. Then, suddenly the melting stopped. His once well-manicured hands had chipped nails, edged in dirt. Blaise and Ginny, he couldn't tell who was who, were watching in amazement as the people changed all around them. He watched as the man he had become turned into him, his short brown hair growing long and blond. The man didn't have any gel to slick the hair back and simply tucked the hair behind his ears. "Everything becomes me," Draco thought. 

The moans of pain stopped and Dumbledore surveyed the changes, smiling broadly."I must thank Severus for always insisting on having polyjuice potion ready at any time. Now, your trunks have been packed and brought down by your beds. Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley, Miss Weasley, and Mr. Potter, I have replicated your exteriors. I have yet to replicate the exteriors of your trunks, Miss Zambini and Mr. Malfoy, because I do not know if there are any objects that your family may wish to take when they discover you have gone." Draco thought but didn't think there was anything his parents would take.

            "You might want to replicate the interior as far as it looks. The objects don't need to be functional," he replied.

            "The same goes for me," said a woman with mousy, brown hair and clear, blue eyes. He assumed it was Blaise and gave her Blaise' flask

            "Very well," Dumbledore replied, waving his wand. Draco's black leather trunk with an M for the lock shuddered before a second trunk, seemingly identical to the first, shot out next to it. With another wave, Blaise' trunk of a dark red leather, the color of dried blood, did the same. Another wave and the six real trunks rose forward, dropping at the feet of each of the owners. Well, they didn't look like the owners. Dumbledore conjured some earmuffs. "I'll be allowing the mandrake to cry and it would be a pity for any of you to be knocked out again." They were all pink and fluffy, but Draco took a pair anyways, as did everyone but the people who looked like themselves. Professor Sprout also received a pair, placed over her ears by Madam Pomphrey. Draco suspected that getting a double dose of a mandrake's cry could be fatal, even if it was only a teenager. It was odd to see himself without a mirror, although this person really couldn't be him because he let too much emotion show in his face that wasn't his face. Dumbledore and Madam Pomphrey took the last two earmuffs, securing them over their ears. Draco couldn't hear anything, but saw the Headmaster gesturing to the beds with his lips moving. His polyjuice self moved to the bed where he once lay as did the rest of the Polyjuice selves. Dumbledore cleared some dirt away from the mandrake withdrawing his fingers very suddenly as the root-like head popped out from beneath the earth, baring its teeth to bite the offending finger. It looked like the Mandrake was babbling (there was a sprinkling of white-tipped pimples across its dirty brow and chin) and all the occupants of the bed fainted. Seeing only Dumbledore, holding himself out of reach, the mandrake buried its head back down again and Dumbledore pushed the earth back into place.

"Hopefully, it won't pop up again. Now, gather the trunks and I'll be setting you off on the train." They did as they were told, but didn't speak during the entire walk to the carriage. He could tell who was who by the way they talked and held themselves, and Dumbledore didn't bother to clarify the exchanged identities. A blond haired woman turned out to be Hermione through the slight slouching of her back that came from carrying too many books. Ron, still red-haired but a darker red than Weasley slouched too, but it wasn't so much of a slight stoop of the shoulders as an inclination of the head to disguise his height. Harry, now with dark brown hair and brown eyes, having no height to disguise, walked with a straight back, a natural confindence in his step. Blaise, now a blond, held herself as a seductress would, straight with her bust slightly thrown out. Ginny's hair was now in light-brown ringlets, her eyes the color of a toffee Every Flavor Bean, but it wasn't her posture that gave her away to him. It was the expression in her eyes because they were the windows to her soul. No one else he knew could speak with their eyes like she could.

There were two horse-less carraiges, one for the baggage and one from passengers. It was a bit cramped as it was meant for only four passengers, but with Blaise on his lap, Hermione on Ron's and Ginny on Harry's, they managed comfortably. Draco felt an incredibly strong urge to kick something like Harry's shin or Harry's bag of goodies between his legs.

"Sir, what are they doing here?" Harry jerked his head to Draco and Blaise once they were inside the carraige. To prevent staring at Harry, Blaise looked at a hole in the carpeted floor.

"They too have joined the Order."

"And why have you decided to let us in earlier?"

"Voldemort," beside him, Draco felt Ginny flinch "is gathering underage wizards at part of his army. I thought it best to be well prepared." Dumbledore turned away and addressed the rest of them. "You'll need to take the potion every hour until you're at head quarters. Also," he continued, pulling two slips of parchment from his pocket and handing one each to Blaise and Draco, "you two will need to memorize these. Don't try to until you get to London. When you think you have, burn the parchment." Draco and Blaise pocketed the parchments as silence hung in the air, draping like a curtain between the Gryfindors and Slytherins.

"I expect all of you to get along and explain to each other on the train, is that clear?" Dumbledore tore the curtain of silence, looking at each of them in turn, the look of a chastising father nestled in every line on his face and although none of them spoke, he knew that none of them would object. Through the crunching of the carriage wheels, Draco wondered how they could be convinced. Harry shifted beside him.

"Geez, Ginny, you're getting heavy. Have you gained weight?" A glare from Hermione told Harry that it was exactly the wrong thing to say, but that wasn't what made Draco glare at him.

"Um…maybe a little. It's probably the potion." She was blushing slightly but wouldn't look over at him. Draco wished that Blaise and Ginny would switch positions. He wouldn't object to her being heavy, as long as he was touching her. Hermione wore a very disapproving look on her face. Behind her, Harry mouthed silently and she looked at the floor in disappointment. Obviously, Harry's lack of tact with girls was not a new thing. Luckily, Blaise could handle him with more ease than she could handle a slippery eel with a skewer. All it took was a few sharp stabs and it was caught.

The carriage windows looked as though they had not been washed in years and the interior smelled of must. The thought that must have been one of the older carriages, not put into use for a long time was supported by the squealing of an axle. Conversation seemed out of the question and Dumbledore seemed content to stay as a pressure to force them to talk to each other. When they reached the train, he bade them farewell indifferently, but with a warm smile. Draco would remember that smile; it was a loving expression.

~~~~~

Dumbledore has got to be the hardest character to write. He has this perfect balance of humor and wisdom, and I don't think I caught either aspect. Oh well. This is definitely the most forced chapter. There's so little D/G in it that it was weird because I keep thinking about what to do with them but was denying myself the pleasure because I had to get them out of Hogwarts and I had no idea how. Luckily, I read the Harry Potter books as often as good Christians read the Bible and was inspired. You might remember Professor Sprout saying: "As our Mandrakes are only seedling, their cries won't kill yet. However, they _will knowck you out for several hours…" (p.93, American Edition, __Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets). I thought maybe if they were a bit older they would knock you out for longer, and they do according to me. I am a faithful follower of the canon. Come, join me in insanity (oh wait, you already have…)._

Gwuinivyre: So you like the bad boys, eh? So do I, well I don't like the way Snape looks much but his voice…oh he can give me detention any time he wants. Especially if it's playing house-elf to Draco. And Lucius…like father like son. Well, that's enough for my hormones. Thanks for the compliment; this story is getting so many aspects I'll have to start paying people to clean the windows.

SicDreamsInc: Isn't it scary that I have so much power? I can do anything I want…anything and that includes dropping a sex scene right here. Of course, it doesn't really go with the plot but it's what we all want, isn't it? And I recognize the reference, hehe, Mulan was the best animated movie Disney came up with last (I mean, Treasure Planet? Come on…) and was the best thing Disney had given us last until Pirates of the Caribbean (oh, my, Orlando. Come here Orlando, I won't bite…hard). I love you too, mummy, lol.

jane-valar: Well, whenever I get the urge to write I do and I happen to get the urge quite a bit, which is very good for you readers. Thanks for your classically, dreamy, picnicky compliment.

Adie: Yay! I surprised you! It was supposed to be a surprise, it was for me too ("hey…what if she's pregnant…"). Thank you for introducing me to portkey.org; I didn't know it existed before. I'd recommend magicaltheory.com for day's when ff.net is down. It's got at least 3 months worth of fiction on it (If you're reading every day for 2 hour blocks) and is a D/G shipping site. Checkmated.com is good too,  thought I don't think there's any D/G

Victoria006: I'll look for it. Thanks lass.

Sorrow in Shadow: Thanks ever so much. I like the poem too, if you haven't noticed, lol. It's always good to include some first rate poetry that way if your fition sucks, people at least get a good poem. It's like a funny commercial during a disgustingly tragic soap opera. "The road less taken" and "Do not go gentle into that good night" are right up there for me.

Anime10473: Playing god, as it were, I will not allow Ginny to have less than a beautiful baby if she has one. Because I mean, with Draco as the father? ::drools:: Oops, better wipe that up. Harry will get some action from Blaise I think, I mean she's got to get that first kiss and I hope she has to maul him for it. And of course he'll like being mauled. You'll have to wait on the shadows. I'm making you forget them for a reason. _Obliviate__! That's better. And just a minor correction. Chow is spelled C-I-A-O. It's Italian. Well, and also a Chinese name. Lol. Thank you for such lovely long reviews and for being such a faithful reviewer._

I hope you liked this chapter, and I've got plenty more writing where this came from. If you could drop a review I would be ever so grateful; I like knowing what my readers think (I even have a folder in my e-mail called Reviews where I keep all the pretty little things). Thank you everyone who has reviewed. This is my longest and most popular story (and the only one I'm getting anywhere with) and I smile every time I see that I've got a review. Wow I'm so sappy that I think I'm sticking to the chair. Ciao.


	7. To Tame the Weasley Clan

Disclaimer: I don't intend to infringe on any copyright laws, I just want to exercise my freedom of speech.****

**To tame the Weasley Clan**

Draco had been expecting the Hogwarts Express, but only found a dingy black steam engine with one car. Nonetheless, he followed the others aboard with his trunk. The inside was much better looking than the outside. It looked like a dining car, with seats of soft, beige suede and pinewood tables. On one end was bathroom and on the other was luggage rack. Behind the food counter was a number of sweets, sandwiches, soups, and drinks. All it needed, he thought, was a house-elf.

"Malfoy, how in hell did you get into the Order?" The had train started as soon as they had boarded. Ron was now sitting between the window and Hermione, Harry beside Hermione. Ginny occupied the other window seat, her hands folded on top of the table. He moved to sit next to her. 

"Don't you dare!" Ron's ears were pink.

"Blaise," he sighed, "Honey buns, would you mind protecting Ginny's virtue for me? Pretty please?" 

"Draco, I don't need to defend your honor And if you ever call be honey buns again, I'll snap your neck." She pushed him into the booth and he slid next to Ginny. Blaise sat next to him, across from Harry and he saw a flash of surprise flitter across his face which meant Blaise had started her game of footsy…

"I repeat, how in hell did you get into the Order?" Ron's arms were crossed, one of his hands grasping Hermione's almost ferociously.

"Someone recommended me. I agreed. I suggested Blaise. She agreed. We're pretending to date. We're going to join the Death Eaters and become spies." Ron looked dumbfounded. "What, that wasn't simple enough for you to understand."

"No," Ron said through gritted teeth, "I don't understand how Dumbledore could be so moronic as to trust you."

"Well a swift _obliviate would have done the trick," Draco joked. Ron didn't seem to think it was funny. "I have my reasons for doing as I do. You don't need to know them."_

"Fine." He glanced at Ginny. She was staring out the window, a glassy look to her eyes. He sighed and followed her eyes. They didn't pick any specific point to look at, simply stared and stared without focusing. He moved his hand and grasped hers beneath the table. She stiffened slightly and squeezed back without looking at him. It was nice to hold hands with her. It was almost normal.

The potion had begun to wear off, hints of each person's most salient features shining through the polyjuice mask. Draco had been correct in identifying all of them. Blaise's eyes had been the first to appear, and just after Ginny's freckles popped out on olive-colored skin. Next Harry's scar sprouted across his forehead, Ron's hair turned red, and Draco's hair turned blond. A slight frizzing to Hermione's hair was the last change Draco noted and he took the potion, as they all did after the distraction of their changes had been cleared from their minds.

Hermione excused herself to go to the bathroom. Harry looked slightly relieved when he moved out of the way for her, but Blaise had set her hook in him and was reeling him in slowly with her gaze. Ron excused himself a few minutes later for the bathroom.

"They'll be done in an hour or so," Harry muttered, sitting down after Ron had left. Blaise slid in next to him. Harry looked at her with surprise.

"I'll feel like a dangling end on the other side. Now, let's gossip."

Ginny and Blaise kept conversation going, with Harry or Draco inserted commentary only when it was necessary. A half hour went by before all the gossip Hogwarts had was exhausted. Ginny had still not released his hand. 

"Whoa!" Harry had gone stiff and shot up out of his seat shouting, Blaise looked at him, then Draco, then him, her eyes innocently wide.

"What?" she asked, still doe-eyed.

"You – you just–" he glanced over at Ginny. Draco coughed.

"Ginny, we'd better, uh…make sure the toilet hasn't swallowed your brother and his lover."

"No! Don't leave!" Harry protested.

"Yes, don't know what trouble we'll get up to," Blaise said silkily. Harry, realizing he was trapped between the table, the window, the back of the booth, and Blaise, attempted to climb over the table. Blaise grabbed him by the back of his pants.

"We can tell when we're not wanted, Harry." Ginny winked and followed Draco behind the service counter.

"Was that some kind of act to get me alone?" Ginny asked, once there. Draco folded his arms around his legs.

"No, that was just Blaise being Blaise."

"So you weren't joking about that whole turning on thing."

"You should have seen her. It was like she had never seen a boy before." Ginny giggled.

"They're probably making out right now, with her acting like she is."

"Yeah, Blaise is really good at getting what she wants. I suspect she put me after you so that I would stop denying my hormones what they wanted."

"So it's your hormones that sent you running to me?"

"Yeah, they were running from Blaise's whip."

"Hmm…whip…sounds fun." He laughed.

"You're unbelievably the most perfect person in the world." She laughed again and wrapped her arms around him in a hug which he awkwardly returned.

"You don't even know how unbelievable I am."

"I don't?"

"No." She pounced, pushing him to the ground as her lips sought his. He slid his tongue into her mouth. Here was the food, the necessity of life that he had been denying himself. His hands stroked her, seeking the sensitive spots that he had come to know. As the train stormed down the tracks, drawing them closer and closer to London, three happy couples made merry music to the accompanying click-clacks.

By the time Draco and Ginny had finished their snogging session and returned to the booth, Ron and Hermione stood over Blaise and Harry where they lay, sprawled across the seat. Harry's hair was more messy than usual and his cheeks flushed with a mixture of embarrassment and desire.

"What do you two bloody think you're doing?"

"Um…snogging?"

"Do you have any idea what this is going to do to my sister? You know she loves you."

"Uh, Ron? Correction: I used to be enamored. I'm not anymore. Remember my other boyfriends…" Ron whirled around and his expression soften when his eyes met Ginny.

"Well, at least this time it wasn't 'wet' was it, eh, Harry?" Ron teased. Harry's mouth pursed, but it was Blaise that answered.

"We just didn't get far enough for him to get wet." She looked perfectly composed, as if she was applying lipstick. It was Ron's turn to pucker, before he burst out laughing.

"That's not what I meant, but that was good."

"Thanks." She wrapped her hands around Harry from behind. He stiffened and unwrapped them, scooting out of the booth and moving as far away from Blaise as she could. Blaise didn't seem insulted, and pulled out a book to read. 

"Besides you were supposed to be keeping an eye on them." He jerked his head towards Draco and Ginny. Ginny looked back, the picture of innocence.

"Why would I need to be watched?"

"We saw you in the library, being all chummy. Don't think we didn't notice when you were using his quill, the quill that he used in every single class before he gave it to you."

"Then you know about us."

"Yes," Hermione said, following Blaise example and searching for a book, "we knew. And believe me those two weren't pleased. But you're happy Gin, I know you are, and as long as you stay happy I'm willing to accept your choice."

"Thanks, Hermione." Ginny smiled warmly at her. Hermione looked up from the book.

"It's not our choice to make about who you date. And even if those two numbskulls don't see that, I do and I'm willing to transfigure them into any animal you'd like." Her voice was even and the threat seemed to vanish in the tone.

"Wait…" Ron had caught it.

"Oh, shut up." And with that she buried her nose in her book.

Harry and Ron settled down to a game of exploding snap, inviting Ginny to play. After a pause, Harry asked Draco to play too, and before long Hermione and Blaise had abandoned their books and joined in. Amid the war-like pops and snaps of the cards, peace settled over the dingy train to London.

"Oh Arthur, they're coming now! They'll be home soon!"

"Molly…remember what Dumbledore said…"

"Oh yes, Arthur dear."

They watched the train roll in, the only two on the platform save a wrinkly old man who looked like his skin would simply slide off of his bones. He smiled toothlessly and smoothed back the slip of white hair he had left on his plate. Thick smoke filled the air above them as the 6 unfamiliar figures emerged from the train, dragging their trunks behind them. Two carried empty cages, one carried a wicker basket. Not caring who was who, Mrs. Weasley ran to the first one she saw and wrapped her arms around him. It turned out to be Draco Malfoy.

"Oh, I'm so happy you're home! We've missed you terribly." Draco felt uncomfortable wrapped in this comfortable yet unfamiliar woman's arms. Being hugged was a liberty only his mother and Ginny had taken, Ginny more often than his mother. He didn't hug back, but Mrs. Weasley had moved on to hug Blaise, who looked as shocked as he had felt, and then each person as they got off the train.

The train departed as soon as they had all gotten off, and Mr. Weasley led the way through Muggle London. Mrs. Weasley had stopped fussing over them, and Draco was relieved. He knew she did it because she didn't know who they were, but he wasn't used to having some one touch him in an affectionate manner. In fact, Ginny was the only one who touched him affectionately. She probably had learnt it from her mother.

As they entered a more residential section of London, Draco noticed the cars came by less frequently and the streets narrowed. Where there were parking meters there were now trees and large trash cans. Mr. Weasley stopped on a street called Grimmauld Place and Draco watched as he slipped in between numbers 11 and 13, seeming to disappear. It was like crossing the barrier to Platform 9 ¾ but much more unbelievable because he seemed to vanish into thin air without the loud crack of apparition.

"Draco? Where are the going?"

"Into the headquarters, I think. It must be unplottable."

"But how are we going to get in if we can't see it?"

"I don't – wait! The parchment!" He reached into his pocket and withdrew the parchment. Blaise did the same. Written in looping writing, Draco read:

_The headquarters of the Order of the Pheonix may be found at Number 12, __Grimmauld__ Place__, _London___. Memorize this and then burn the parchment._

He reread the parchment twice more before setting it on fire with the tip of his wand. Blaise didn't set hers on fire, simply held hers to his and it caught. They threw the parchment into the gutter and he looked at the gap once more.

"You don't see anything do you?"

"Well, the parchment said…" He rethought the message in his head. _The headquarters of the Order of the Pheonix may be found at…_As soon as he thought the address in his head, the house appeared, pushing out from between number 11 and number 13. The windows were covered in grime that he thought would cloud any light from coming in. The paint was chipped on the door and peeling off of the house, the shingles coming loose and there were gaps where some had fallen. Only the door handle seem to be used; every other aspect of the house's appearance seemed old and decayed. He turned to Blaise who still stood with a puzzled expression on her face.

"Just think about it." Dubiously, she rethought the message and he saw her eyes widen as the building pushed out for her to see. 

"Ready?"

"Ready." Everyone else had already pushed through the door. He grasped the serpent shaped handle, holding it for Blaise as he had been taught to do, and stepped into the dark and gloomy hall. Mrs Weasley stood, motioning for them to be quiet and they followed her up the stairs. Decaying and worn, the rug still had patches that hinted at the grandeur it once was. The hallways were dark, lit by serpent shaped candelabra and chandeliers that gave off the dimmest amount of light they could. The house had an eery, dead feeling to it, but at least everything was clean. Along the wall in the upper staircase heads of house-elves were mounted like prizes.

They reached their rooms, two next to each other and one across the hall. Harry and Ron took that room, Hermione and Ginny directly across the hall from them and Blaise and Draco were appointed the room next to Hermione and Ginny. Draco supposed the Slytherins were put together for safety reasons, even if they were members of the opposite sex. Besides, he felt Blaise was more like a sister than anything else. Well, maybe a cousin, which she was, twice removed and by marriage.

The bedroom was much more welcoming than the rest of the house. Decorated in faded green, with silk curtains, bed hangings and comforters. He noticed there was an iron mark singed into the corner of one and the trim on the walls were dotted with little holes that looked like they were from a Billywig. How they had gotten here from Australia, he did not know.

Draco stored his trunk at the foot of his bed and shrugged out of his cloak, putting it and the bottle of polyjuice potion safely within it. Blaise had already set about, unpacking a stack of books for her nightstand and placing different odds and ends around her portion of the room to make it more homey and Blaise-esque. He didn't have anything to do that with; he was an extraordinarily neat person. Such his father's regime had made him. Instead he walked about the room. It was surprisingly impersonal, but he could see stains on the wall where a picture had once been, protecting the wallpaper from fading. There wasn't a fireplace, and the furniture was made of curly maple, speaking the wealth of the previous occupants in extravagant tones. He bent closer to the trim, trailing his finger along the holes, wondering if something would come out and bite.

"Billywig. It took two days to get rid of the infestation." He wasn't aware of Ginny coming in or kneeling down next to him, but she was there, answering his unvoiced question. The potion had worn off and she had changed back to normal; he assumed he had too. "You're probably wondering about the house, and why the halls are so dark and why it looks like it belonged to dark wizards. The easy answer is it did."

"Who did it belong to?" He let her guide him to the bed. Blaise had left.

"The Black family."

"You mean, my mothers?"

"No, to her cousin. You have undoubtedly heard of Sirius Black. He inherited the house after his mother died and when he rejoined the Order, he gave us the house for use as the headquarters. It was ideal, really. It had all the protections of a Dark Wizard's house and we added more. He'll never be able to find this place." Draco knew who she was talking about and was grateful she didn't call him by his name.

"C'mon, I'll give you a tour. But we have to be quiet in the hallways. We don't want to wake anybody up."

"Who would we be waking?" he asked, but Ginny had put her finger to his lips and was walking out the door. He followed her to the next room where he found Blaise chatting animatedly with Hermione about some of the objects they had seen in Muggle London along the way.

"So someone comes by and collects the money and the Muggle government uses the money to pay for things. But they have to pay the workers and so wouldn't it just be better for everyone if they didn't have to pay and so they wouldn't have to spend money on the workers?"

"But the money the meters bring in is more than the workers are paid and so the city makes a profit. It also ensures that people don't stay too long because they don't want to spend too much money and other people get a chance to park."

"But what if you want to stay in London all day? Maybe you have to work, or something. That's a lot of money."

"Well, then they have parking garages and monthly passes…" Hermione continued explaining and Blaise sat paying rapt attention. He knew she had wanted to take Muggle Studies but it would have brought shame to the family if she had. Ginny was grinning.

"Typical Hermione. Well, this is our room, mine and Hermione's that is. This was one of the first to be detoxified. Or I should say dedoxified. They had made a nest in one of the mattresses which we had to throw out. After knocking out all the doxies of course. We sent those to apothecaries for money to buy a new mattress."

The room was decorated in blue and white striped wallpaper with blue comforters and white hangings embroidered with blue flowers. The white was see through and beneath them were curtains of blue satin, with matching curtains closed over the grimy window. The furniture was made of pine and a fire crackled in the hearth. By it were two overstuffed chairs covered in a hardier material in the same shade of blue that was embroidered with white flowers. Above the mantle was a frame holding blue cloth painted with white lines.

"Why have you covered up the painting?"

"We can't take it down and the occupant doesn't like us very much. This was one of the few that had a charm so we couldn't paint over it and so we covered it. You'll see a lot of blank pictures and paintings with cloth over it, just like this. The only one we couldn't alter was the painting of Mrs. Black and so we had to make curtains to hang over her. I expect you'll meet her sometime and she's not a very pleasant person."

He followed her Ron and Harry's room next where Harry and Ron were playing a game of Wizard's Chess and continually down the hall. It was a big house, thought not a big as Malfoy Manor, with about 12 bedrooms, six of them occupied. At the end of the floor was the bathroom, decorated like a Roman communal bath except for three toilet and sinks (complete with oval, floor-length mirrors) separated from the main bath with curtains of what looked like interwoven willow branches. Across the bathroom, on the opposite side from the toilets were two spacious showers.

"It a bit excessive, isn't it?" Her voice echoed through the room, bouncing off the marble floor and walls.

"A bit, but if this is excessive then the Manor is extremely extravagant." She paused for a moment. He hadn't mentioned his home to her before.

"What's it like?"

"The manor?"

"Yes, tell me about your home."

"Malfoy Manor is not my home. It's a beautiful house. A beautiful house filled with beautiful things and protected by enchantments and secret passages. A beautiful house where my family history and my future collide and merge and grandeur to a degree that's almost disgusting. A beautiful house with the atmosphere of a tomb." She placed her hand in his.

"Then let's make it a home, Draco." He turned to face her, grasping her other hand as he did.

"You'd be willing to do that." She smiled.

"I refuse to have my child raised in a tomb."

"Our child," he corrected.

"Yes," she said, pulling his hand to rest on her slightly swollen stomach, "Our child."

Ron and Hermione watched from behind the woven curtain in one of the toilet cubicles where they had gone fore some…privacy. The curtain not only screened them from view, but the silencing spell Hermione and placed on the cubicle kept their argument from being heard.

"Just think about it! Their kids will all be skinny beanpoles with awful pink hair running around and demanding sweets and I'll have to be 'Uncle Ron' to the little pink monsters and –" Hermione placed a soothing hand on his arm.

"At least she's happy."

"She's pregnant!"

"But look at her." She turned him to face Draco and Ginny. Ginny had taken Draco's hand and tugged it over to her rounding middle and he smiled with the enthusiasm of a house-elf who's just been praised. Ron scuffed his shoe into the floor.

"I guess she's happy."

"Good boy."

~~~~~

Thanks so much for your patience. I know it's been an extremely long time since I've updated (long for me anyways) but the extenuating circumstance called writers block is to blame. Luckily, I am past that and have presented you with oodles of Draco/Ginny goodness with some Blaise/Harry for good measure. And now you know who was watching in the library, so stop pestering. Well, no. I like being pestered, lol.

This chapter came together in bits and pieces but it seems to flow together well so I'm happy.

Adie: Lol, I think the difference between Draco's lack of tact and Harry's is that Draco can be charming when he wants and Harry is charming by accident. And your shadow wish was my command.

Ennui: Thanks for your compliments. I wasn't sure if the eel description fit well, but it was a very Blaise-like description, or so I thought, and I'm happy you agree.

hippogriff11: Thanks!

Ms K: I tried to write fast, thanks so much for the lovely long review. I guess Draco is a bit fluffy, but Canon Draco pisses me off, or at least he did in OotP. Imagine, I was reading Cassandra Claire and then I went and read OotP. It was quite a drastic change, almost shocking. I agree with LeatherPants!Draco, maybe I'll find some way for him to wear them. Maybe leather riding breeches will have to do, lol. Personally I prefer Draco sans leather pants but…lol. I hadn't thought about the Occlumency thing. I guess he does know, especially with Harry making his comment, but maybe, being Dumbledore he knows it doesn't matter or thinks the Ginny will be protected at the headquarters, which she will be.

Washi: There will be much angst in upcoming chapters. Well, actually I can't promise that but I also don't know how the others will react. I suppose we'll all have to wait and see, myself included. I'll just go wherever the wind blows me, or wherever pokes and prods from reviewers take me.

Leeta: I'm sorry for any of the confusion, I know my style of writing is a bit confusing at points. I intend to go back and tighten everything up once this fic is done. Maybe you could point out a few places? If you could, I'd be very grateful. Thanks for reviewing.

Reviews make my little light shine. The more reviews the bigger the light. Let light shine down from me. Wait…that was incredibly corny. Ho hum.


	8. secrets secrets are great fun

Disclaimer: I don't intend to infringe on any copyright laws, I just want to exercise my freedom of speech.

**secrets**** secrets are great fun**

Dinner was a ludicrous affair. The entire Weasley Clan had popped their freckled noses in and now the table was covered in bottles of butterbeer, flagons of pumpkin juice, and one lone bottle of Ogden's Firewhisky that the twins kept trying to nick. Amid the drinks were hearty platters of baked potatoes, chicken and homemade rolls. Treacle tart polished off the evening, but it wasn't the food that made Draco smile with delight. It was the atmosphere.

The Weasleys were a rambunctious bunch, there was no doubt about that. Laughter never ceased when they were paired with Lupin and Mad-Eye Moody (old defense against the Dark Arts teachers), Mundungus Fletcher (professional robber by day, night, and any time he could "borrow" in between), Arabella Figg (a Squib with flyaway hair and the stench of cats who had brought a cake that he thought had a fine layer of dust covering the frosting), Emmaline Vance (who gave off an almost regal air that gave Draco the distinct impression of one of his mother's Garden Parties, if a party were to become a person), Kingsly Shacklebolt (who worked closely with his father and he would have never suspected of working against the Dark Lord), and Dedalus Diggle (a twitchy, middle-aged man with a violently violet top hat). Draco and Blaise hadn't been shunned, as he had expected them to be. He supposed this was partially due to the fact that Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny had already accepted them and partially due to Blaise's never ending wit and charm. He sat between Mrs. Weasley and Blaise, somewhat guarded from any attacks that could be made against him. They would have been justified; Lucius Malfoy had a way of tearing up families that was probably second only to Voldemort. He supposed his presence here accounted for something, but he wasn't sure what that something was yet.

His location did not save him from Molly-coddling, however.

"There, dear, eat up." She had shoveled another slice of treacle tart onto his plate, and no matter how good it was, he did not think he could stomach another bite.

"Thank you, Mrs. Weasley, but I must beg, no more. I think I'm going to burst as it is."

"Which you should be, all skin and bones. You can't have been eating properly."

Despite her overbearing, motherly nature, Draco couldn't help but like her. She exuded friendliness and acceptance. It was lucky Draco had a healthy appetite, otherwise he might not be able to satisfy Mrs. Weasley. And he wanted to do his best to fit into their family. For Ginny he wanted to, and for himself.

It would be very hard to make peace with her family once they found out he had knocked up their only daughter, but he had to. He was involved with her, and he wanted their child to have better than he had had. He wanted their child to have a family. He wanted it to have a family like Ginny's.

"I was thinking that you all could make a trip to Diagon Alley for a bit of Christmas shopping next week. What do you think?" she asked her daughter who sat across the table.

"That would be wonderful. I was wondering how I was actually going to get it done." The others nodded in assent. Mrs. Weasley smiled.

"Then next Wednesday, we'll go. But you'll have to be under the Polyjuice potion, not only will people recognize you in Diagon Alley but the other Hogwarts students will be out for the holidays and probably doing a bit of last minute shopping as well."

Everyone helped clear the table and Molly, Dedalus Diggle, Bill Weasley, and Kingsley Shacklebolt set about cleaning magically.

"Erm…Draco. Do you have a minute?" Harry looked as though he was fighting an internal battle.

"I guess."

 "There's a tapestry in the drawing room," Harry said, walking out of the room and motioning for Draco to follow, "this big, ugly, moldy tapestry that has every member of the Black family on it. You're there. You were the last name added and you'll be the only traitor who won't be removed."

Harry kept his voice low when walking through the hallway, but didn't keep completely silent as Ginny had. The drawing room was high-ceilinged, with walls covered in tapestries. In the dim fire-light, Draco couldn't see what they were of. Harry led him to one whose edge looked like it had been knawed but he could see the title and the family tree. Gold thread glinted in Harry's wandlight. Draco lit his own wand and leaned in to examine the tapestry. Sure enough, a golden thread connected _Narcissa__ Black with __Lucius__ Malfoy and from it extended another line, perpendicular to the first that stopped at __Draco__ Malfoy. Scattered across the tapestry were golden threads ending in scorchmarks. _

The door creaked open and a woman with waist length blue hair entered. She wore a Weird Sister's Concert shirt, but other than that, she looked like a Muggle at first glance.

"There you two are. You really should let people know when you wander off, we were going to start the meeting without you."

"This," Harry said, gesturing to the eccentric young woman, "is Nymphadora Tonks."

"Just Tonks, if you wouldn't mind. Hello, cousin." She smiled enthusiastically at  Draco.

"Cousin? I don't have any cousins."

"Of course you wouldn't know about me. You see that scorch mark there? That's my mum. Beautiful, isn't she?" She said the last bit with a good helping of sarcasm. She was pointing to a scorch mark that fit between _Bellatrix__ Black and __Narcissa__ Black._

"Well then, hello, cousin." Tonks grinned. "What's her name?"

"Andromeda."

"Hm…Mother did mention her once or twice, well, let slip is more like it…Mother's not really that bad you know." Tonks pretended to study the tapestry. "She just has this annoying sense of duty. She said she married my father because she thought he was beautiful. Then she found out how ugly he was inside but duty kept her loyal. Besides, she still thinks he _looks_ beautiful."

 "My mom said Narcissa was like a piece of dander in the wind, always willing to follow the course of the wind and never defying it."

"She is. She doesn't really have a will of her own; she's never had any time to develop it. I've met Aunt Bellatrix a couple of times. She had a very strong will and knew exactly what she wanted and was willing to do anything to get it. I think that's why she became a Death Eater while Mother simply was the good wife at home, handling all the party invitations and seating arrangements of England's most evil. She's quite good at it."

"Mm…" Tonks murmured, tucking a stray thread in the tapestry back in with her wand.

"But about that wind metaphor…What if there were a crosswind?" Tonks looked at him, puzzled.

"What if I were the crosswind?"

"You mean…you think she can be turned?"

"I think that after 17 years of neglect and battering from Father, she can be turned." Her eyes lit up and she changed the color in her excitement.

"It's worth a try."

Tonks beckoned them into the hallway and they followed her back into the dining room. Seated around the table was everyone who had been at dinner, plus a few new faces and Professor Snape. Somehow, Draco felt Snape was out of place; Snape was someone he tied to the Dark Lord and completely separate from the Weasleys. But he sat austerely next to Arthur Weasley. Dumbledore was not there and everyone chatted quietly.

"I found them!" Tonks announced, steering them to join the other underage members. They stood at the end of one of the long tables, bunched together like a bouquet of flowers.

"These are the underage members," Tonk said, turning to the other members. They greeted the younguns and she turned back to them. "They aren't all the members," she explained, "there are some that you haven't met, and even more the Draco and Blaise haven't met, but it's hard to get us all together, especially when six of us are unconscious pretending to be you."

"Anyways," Mr. Weasley interrupted, "on to business."

"Yes," Snape said, "first I have a message from Minerva. She says that she is willing to begin Animagus training with those who have volunteered to attempt it. Training meetings will be held once a month. I do not have any new news about the Dark Lord, but I suspect that is simply because he is plotting behind my back. I also need some information to feed him."

"That means we'll need to set up another scene for him to discover, won't it," Emmaline Vance said, tapping her finger on the table in thought.

"Yes, it does. I'd recommend something outdoors where the cloakhoods can be up so that he can't discover any more members."

They discussed and planned for Snape to tip Voldemort off on an exchanging of a potion that would happen in a pub in rural Wales. Draco found the meeting to be a bit boring and none of the underage members spoke. Beside him, he could see Blaise nodding off and gave her a sharp prod in her side.

"Well, that settles it. I think we have nothing more to discuss," Kingsley Shacklebolt declared, rising from his seat.

"Right. So, until next week. We'll send round an owl." Mr. Weasley's chair joined the chorus of scraping and shuffling of feet to the door. The air was littered with valedictions as people bundled themselves in their cloaks and left, letting the chilly winter air into the hallway. Draco shivered slightly as he made his way to the staircase. Suddenly a loud clank sounded as Tonks knocked over the umbrella stand. As if cued by the noise, curtains near Draco's head ripped apart to reveal a menacing looking woman with dark hair. She could have been a banshee, and nearly sounded like one when she spoke.

"_MUDBLOODS!__ FILTH! LEAVE THE HOUSE OF MY FATHER IN PEACE! OH THE BLACK FAMILY HAS NEVER SUNK SO LOW. HALF-BREEDS! BLOODTRAITORS! OH, IF THEY EVER KNEW WHAT FILTH -" she stopped abruptly, catching sight of Draco._

"_Lucius__?__ What are you doing here? You haven't betrayed us too…"_

"I'm Draco," he responded, glad that the drooling monster in the portrait had stopped screeching.

"_I remember you," She said fondly, reaching out to him as if to pinch his cheek, "_You were the most well-behaved little boy whenever Narcissa brought you around. But you've turned haven't you? You've become one of them…_"_

"No," Draco leaned into the portrait. Around him everyone stopped what they were doing. A gust blew in the front door. "I'm a spy," he said quietly, "but don't tell any of the others. They don't know. You'd best keep quiet altogether, I have a lot of work to do to get on their good side. Being noble isn't enough for them, it seems."

"_I'll keep your little secret," Mrs. Black said with glee. The curtains closed in on her and she didn't resist._

"That was something," Ginny said, brushing her hand against his in comfort.

"You were right," he said, continuing up the staircase, "She is very unpleasant."

Blaise was already in the room when Draco entered. She hadn't changed into her pajamas, but he grabbed his to change behind the drawn curtains on his bed.

"I wouldn't change just yet." Blaise's head poked through the curtain and she clambered onto his bed.

"Why not?"

"Well, I'm her now. And I also heard Hermione making plans to switch rooms for the night, making it so Harry and Ginny are rooming together. I don't know about you, but I intend to make full use of this wonderful opportunity to switch you into Ginny's room so that Harry and I have a bit of privacy."

"What makes you think he'll accept?" She laughed.

"He won't. You'll just be adamant."

"Blaise…"

"It's not like you don't want to sleep with her. And I hope Harry will be sleeping with me, and no, I will not be naked. I just want a bit of time alone, something that he seems very keen to avoid."

"Well, you are a bit much."

"I just know what I want, that's all."

They both changed into their pajamas, behind their own curtains and waited until 11:00 when they heard sounds in the hallway of Harry and Hermione crossing paths. Draco waited a few minutes before venturing into the hallway. A quick "_Alohamora__!" took care of the door. Harry was sitting rigidly on the edge of Hermione's bed and Ginny sat on hers. Draco stared._

She wore a  green slinky, silk top and matching silk bottoms that barely covered her bottom. Harry didn't seem unaffected by her lack of clothing and he looked up at Draco when Draco entered the room clad only in a pair of blood red silk pajama pants.

"Oh good," Ginny said, noting the tent that had formed in Draco's pants, "this makes everything much easier." Draco simply stared unblinkingly at the drape of silk that barely covered her breast. "I was trying to convince Harry to go over to your room and get you to spend the night, but it seems like our minds were on the same track." He words caressed him as silkily as his eyes caressed her.

"Yes, this makes it very easy…" Draco began walking towards her unconsciously. She looked delicious, like a piece of white chocolate. Harry cleared his throat.

"Erm…well, I'll be going then." Draco looked at him, breaking his gaze from Ginny.

"Yes, yes you will." His followed Harry as he moved quickly towards and out the door.

At the sound of the door closing, something snapped within him. Draco pounced on Ginny, dragging her back against the pillows and drugging her with his kisses. Or perhaps it was the other way around, he didn't know but felt her hands on his chest stroking in circles down to his navel and wrapping around him, pressing him closer to her. He willingly obliged, tearing his mouth from his to plant a series of wet, hot kisses down to her breast.

Ginny felt like she was on fire, like her insides were eating her up. The silk was a wonderful material, magnifying the feeling of Draco's hands on her hips, rubbing towards her butt and lower to the spot where her butt met her thighs. He took her nipple in his mouth, too impatient to bypass the silk and stroked it with his tongue, sucking like a hungry baby. Against her leg, she felt the pressure of his hunger and moved her hand down to grasp it.

He stilled at the motion, at the slight pressure of her hand. She stroked gently and his mouth found hers again, seeking her heat. She sucked on his tongue, and he imagined her doing the same to his penis which was enjoying itself in her hand. He could feel the heat of her hand through the silk and he pressed himself into her hand, his own hands moving from her butt to her breasts, stopping to stroke the slight indentation on her sides where her hips ended. He felt her shiver with delight as he teased her nipples through her shirt, wet on one side, dry on the other. She broke their kiss and lifted her hands over her head in invitation. He pulled the shirt over her head and paused to gaze at her.

Her chest rose and fell rapidly and he could hear the faint sound of panting. Her breasts weren't too big and weren't too small, ending in a rosy nipple that was swollen with delight. He placed his hands around her breasts, squeezing slightly. They fit perfectly.

Draco bent and captured one of her nipples in his mouth, using his teeth to graze it. She arched her back and emitted an utterly feline sound, running her hand through his hand and down his back as he sucked and nipped. His hands spread her legs as far as they could go and he played with the curls that escaped the shorts that were very short. Not wanting to neglect the other nipple, he moved to suck on that one too, trailing his tongue in the valley between her breasts. She moaned with delight and tried to move his head away, trying to move lower on him. But he was firm.

"No, I don't want tonight to be about me. I want tonight to be about you."

He pinched her nipples and kissed lower, over the mound of their baby. He pressed his cheek against her smiling slightly with the knowledge of the life they had made. He kissed lower still, reaching the edge of her shorts that he now realized were panties. He looked up at her.

She lay against the pillows, her nipples and lips swollen and her hair spread out like fire against an ocean of blue. He slipped a finger below the top of her panties, teasing the curls. She closed her eyes partially, stopping when she realized he wasn't going any farther.

"Do you want something, pet?" He moved his finger back and forth, disturbing the curls. He withdrew his finger and stroked her through her panties. They were soaked and he could smell her scent, utterly feminine and intoxicating. He stroked along the edge of the panties before pressing his palm to her. She jumped. "Did you like that?" She didn't respond. "Answer me, Virginia." He squeezed slightly and she stiffened again.

"Yes," she moaned and he took his hand away. She opened her mouth to object but he had set to work on her panties, stripping them down and off of her.

She was open wide before him, dripping wet. He couldn't help but feel a dizzying happiness knowing he had caused it. No other man but he. He leaned forward and pressed his mouth to her, his tongue moving through her folds to flick across a hardened nub nestled there.

She gasped and he flicked his tongue again before stroking her rapidly, swirling his tongue around then alternating back and forth. She writhed under her mouth but he held her down. She began to shake, overwhelmed with the sensations she was experiencing and he inserted a finger into her moving it side to side rather than in and out.

"Oh, Draco – I can't – I...Oh, please!" He inserted another finger inside her, still moving back and forth and his tongue changed to match his finger. She was jerking under him, the sensations slowly overwhelming her, her body shaking with unknown pleasure. His other hand snaked up to massage her breast and he inserted another finger, causing her to moan loudly, unable to restrain herself. He sucked her clitoris into his mouth, rubbing his tongue as lightly as he could across it as he changed his fingers to pump in and out of her. He knew his alternating drove her wild, how she kept getting close only to have him change.

Suddenly she exploded, or so she felt. Every single nerve in her body seemed to hum with delight, her vulva sending bolts of pleasure out and then receiving them back. Draco didn't stop when he felt her contract around his fingers and call out his name in agonizing pleasure. He didn't stop until she stopped writhing and yelling his name.

Gently he climbed up and folded her in his arms, smoothing back her sweat-drenched hair. She smiled peacefully up at him, glistening with sweat, her cheeks and body still flushed with her orgasm.

"That was…wow." She snuggled comfortably against him.

"I know, wasn't it?" he teased.

Silence fell for a few moments as her breathing calmed. He almost thought she had fallen asleep, but she surprised him by rolling him over onto his back and smothering him with her mouth.

"My turn," she said, grinning wickedly as her hands shucked off his pants.

~~~~~

Well, that was some lovely porn. I would have continued, but that would increase the rating and I'm pushing it as it is. So if you'd like it to be finished. E-mail me and I'll tell you where to find it. It's hidden somewhere in this vast ocean we call the internet. Except it's not really the ocean. It's more like space. It knows no bounds. (Well there _is the end of the internet. What? You've never been there? Well then. H t t p : / / w w w . 1 1 1 2 . n e t / l a s t p a g e . h t m l . Remove the spaces and have a nice day)_

I have to be honest. I haven't alphaed this chapter, never mind betaed it. Actually I don't have a beta, if you're interested let me know. Ideally, you're a sickler for the canon, can identify when I use British terms/phrases incorrectly (this really shouldn't shock any of you, my lack of british heritage unless you go back to the 17th century. I mean, look at my spelling! Well, actually faerie looks cooler than fairy so I always use that but still…), and will do all of this fast, or at least during the summer. Once school starts up…well let's just say I'm in for a major headache because homework has no consideration for creative abilities. Harumph.

Leeta: Thanks, I'll make Blaise's sexuality a bit clearer. Chapter 6 was really awkward to write and when I was done it felt like what it was, a bridge. The idea about Blaise being lesbian just sort of popped when I was trying to think of how Draco and Ginny got together so I didn't have much description before and besides, girls are very touchy-feely with each other anyways. It's funny actually, the contrast between guys and girls, because the most hey'll admit to is beating each other on the back for congratulations.

Gwuinivyre: I'll forgive you for not reviewing, lol. Thanks so much for doing so eventually.

Llama: I'm sorry for my lack of doublespacing. I will in the next chapter if you respond but do you mean between lines or between scenes?

Adie: I think having reviewers who poke and prod is a really good motivator, lol. On my website (which I need to update, aiee!) and on ff.net are the only places I've ever posted. I want to on snitchfiction, portkey, magical theory, and fiction alley but I want to have at least one complete story before I post elsewhere. Plus its really easy here. Your welcome to the D/G goodness; I just can't live without those two in a liplock, lol.

Anime10473: Your review for Chapter 6 did get lost, I'm sorry your computer died when you submit it. It wasn't a typo, but let's keep that quiet…I was trying to lure everyone else away from the shadows. So smut shall bar the way, lol. I always imagine Harry as very awkward around girls, I mean, just look at how he handles (or his lack of handling) of girls in the books. Lol, maybe we should give him a Cosmo, or at least a Witch Weekly.

Dukerbrown: Thanks for your compliments. In my mind, Draco did want the baby. I mean, he loves Ginny. But the baby _is_ a danger to her and to himself because it wasn't just about her and him anymore. They're bound for the entirety of the child's life because it's theirs and Draco realizes that. I'll fix that when I revise, maybe put in a sentence or two when she tells him. Thanks for pointing out the inconsistency.

MelissaAdams: Pink is the new blue, dahling, teehee. I love how Ron just runs up against brick walls all the time without feeling anything. I'm flattered you like my story.

So it's 12:35 here, at night, or I should say morning and I'm sleepy. But I always update at night when I should be in bed (of course that's when I'm the most inspired). ::yawn:: Sleep Well.


	9. Lethal Revelations

Disclaimer: I don't intend to infringe on any copyright laws, I just want to exercise my freedom of speech.

**Lethal Revelations**

_The vase was big and ugly, but he had chosen it for his name, dragon. This dragon wasn't anything like the real thing, it looked like it was made of marshmallows squashed. It was fat, the kind of dragon in the storybooks his mother read to him._

_He lay waiting for the prize, to catch Harry Potter before he escaped with his pathetic Defense Against the Dark Arts League. He saw them zipping by but he waited for the right one._

_She raced past, a whirl of red hair and worn-out robes. She was running, panting with her shoelace untied. She wouldn't need a tripping charm to fall. It was a pity to lose her, she was a Weasley after all, and maybe her father would be fired if she was caught._

_He couldn't stop himself; he was chasing her and she ran faster. She was frantic and he loved it. She glanced over his shoulder, a fatal mistake. She tripped on the loose lace and fell, hard, skinning her palms on the worn, stone floor. He cornered her, looming above her, his wand pointed at her. She was going to cry._

_But she didn't. She didn't even look afraid. She was accepting her capture. She was supposed to be afraid._

_"I'm going to take you to Professor Umbridge and your family will be so shamed. Your father is going to have to resign and you'll be poorer than ever." She wasn't unnerved, instead rose to meet him, looking him square in the eye. She was so close he could see her lower lip trembling slightly. It was a full lower lip._

_"Please let me go." He grinned._

_"No."_

_"I'll…I'll kiss you if you let me go."_

_"What makes you think your kiss is worth your freedom?"_

_She didn't answer, only lifted her hands palm up and cupped his face. He should feel revolted; her hands were bloody. Instead her eyes shone and she smelled like honeysuckle. She kissed him._

_Her lips were soft and warm, like a satin pillow. She hadn't closed her eyes and neither did he and he stared at her in silent competition. He was so close his eyes had trouble focusing.  Slowly, she closed her eyes and a silver tear slipped from the corner to roll down her cheek. Another one followed. He closed his eyes and kissed her harder, grasping her waist and pulling her close. He didn't want her to cry. Especially not when she was kissing him. It didn't work; the silver tears trailed down to her mouth. They had a metallic taste._

_"Why are you crying?" he asked against her mouth, his eyes still closed. Her response was distant, like an echo across an ocean._

_"You're hurting me."_

_"How?"___

_"I'll never be able to kiss you again."_

_He kissed her, to prove her wrong, and was met by damp cheeks and salty lips. More tears were rolling down her cheeks and he realized they weren't hers._

Daylight streamed through the windows, muted by grime and curtains but filling the room all the same. Draco ran his hand lazily through his hair. He had been so much trouble last year. Not to his father – his father was proud he was working for the cause – but to Ginny and her family. And to Harry and Hermione. He wondered when he had stopped using their last names, making them impersonal to him. He supposed it was when Ginny had embroiled him in her life, snaring him in her spider's web.

That day when he had caught Harry, that had been one of his proudest moments for a long time. Now he realized it was one of his lowest. He had almost chased her that day, and until now he hadn't wondered what would have happened if he had. His subconscious wanted one thing to happen, but what about her subconscious? Or reality? He was just a pawn the Fates pushed around their chess board. When would the queen take him? Or would he have taken the queen that day?

Blaise stirred, parting the curtains groggily. He had left Ginny's bed early this morning, when it was still dark. He had to wake Harry who was still in Blaise's bed, wrapped around her, hugging her like she was a stuffed niffler. They had been changing rooms every night and Draco, not wanting to get caught, would change back every morning. This way Harry's bed and Draco's bed looked slept in (because he went back to sleep after Draco sent him to his room) and if Blaise was having her way, he knew why Harry was so tired. It was the same reason he went to sleep after returning to his bed every morning. 

He could see Blaise through a hole in his curtains pushing back a snarled tuft of hair. She was not a morning person. Agilely, he threw open the curtains bounced out of bed, determined to annoy her as much as possible.

"Out of bed, Blaise, we can't let you sleep in every day, especially not the day we're to go to Diagon Alley. Christmas shopping, you know. And you have a lot of presents to buy." He made sure to talk as rapidly as possible and to make his movements as quick as possible as he gathered his bag of toiletries. The other boys thought it was weird that he had a bag for his toiletries, but Draco made a point of looking his best, despite the fact he wouldn't be looking like himself for most of the day.

He had never seen the entire Order together. They came and went. During meetings, he would see Professor Snape but other than that, he didn't see him. Most of the members would do a double take when they saw him but they never made any snide comment to him. Everyone was risking their lives to work against Voldemort, but Draco's risk was much greater, greater even than Blaise's. And once he was set up appropriately, he would be an invaluable spy.

At breakfast, Molly buzzed about, dressed in Muggle clothing, a rather ugly floral print dress with a black sweater pulled over it. He was the first one down.

"What would you like, Draco? Eggs? Sausage? Toast?"  
            "Some toast with raspberry jam, please." He settled down to eat as the others drifted to the table in various states of awareness.

"I'll need all your cloaks before we leave. I have to transfigure them all into sweaters or jeckams –"

"Jackets," Hermione corrected.

"Yes, jackets before we leave. I'll transfigure them back when we reach Diagon Alley."

"How are we going to get there?" Blaise asked, piling eggs on her fork.

"We'll be taking the Underground. Which reminds me…Harry, Hermione, I'll need you to handle the money. Merlin knows I can't make any sense of it." She scooped a pile of crumpled paper bills from out of her pocket and handed them to Hermione. Hermione smoothed and piled them neatly before sticking them into her pocket. They took the polyjuice potion directly after eating. Molly transfigured the jackets and Lupin stayed to watch the house and answer the door while they were in Diagon Alley.

Muggle London was colder than it had been before, but Draco thought that might be because the last time they had all worn their cloaks properly. He had never been on the Underground and while Blaise was simply ecstatic at nearly everything they saw or touched, he couldn't help but be amazed at the ingenuity of Muggles. The train rides were too loud to talk much, but they managed to make a general outline of who wanted to go where. Draco's only requirement was the Ginny have lunch with him. He planned to take her to his favorite restaurant, _Wandsparks_. They planned to split up into pairs so that they could shop for presents without having to sneak around the other person to do it. At every hour and a half they would meet back at Gringotts, the wizard bank which was located at the center of Diagon Alley, to swap partners.

He thought it odd to be entering Diagon Alley the Muggle way; he had always gone by portkey or Floo before. Harry had to point out the Leaky Cauldron to them before they saw it. Draco knew it was an anti-Muggle protection for you to have to know where the Leaky Cauldron was before you could enter it. It was like the entire wizarding world was secret keeper to Diagon Alley.

Mrs. Weasley returned their cloaks to their normal state and Draco set off with Blaise to Flourish and Blotts. She intended to get a book for Hermione and Draco thought he might do the same but Draco didn't know what kind of book Hermione liked; there had been a certain restraint on their relationship because of Draco's instinct to view her as a mudblood, although he had stopped calling her that and started chastising his mind whenever it brought up the term. Once Blaise had chosen her book, Draco led her to the store next door, a parchment and ink shop. Scouring the shelves, he found a make your own ink set, that had different colored ingredients for someone to brew their own ink with a special scent, color, and a book of charms to make the ink shimmer or turn into a rainbow or become invisible. He supposed it would have to do, although he had been sorely tempted to buy some taming hair-potion for her as a joke, but he didn't know how well she would take it. 

Setting off with Harry and Mrs. Weasley next, they stopped off at a sweetshop where Draco purchased a giant box of assorted candies. He paid an extra sickle for the shopkeeper to include a few cockroach clusters. He knew Ron would appreciate the gesture; not only did Ron harbor a secret fondness for the disgusting sweets but Draco had discovered that he and Ron had very similar senses of humor. That was probably why they had been able to goad each other so well, he thought wryly.

At noon, he and Ginny separated from the group and he led her to _Wandsparks. It wasn't an extremely posh restaurant, but what it lacked in appearance it made up for in the food. They were greeted and Draco requested outdoor seat, which they were led too. Their waitress came up a few moments later. Draco looked up and found a very beautiful Cho Chang looking back at him._

"Hello, I'm Cho and I'll be your waitress today. Is there anything I can get you to drink?"

"I'd like some sparkling raspberry juice," Draco replied.

"I think I'll have the same," Ginny said, her eyes twinkling in amusement. He knew why; they had been warned about meeting some Hogwarts students in Diagon Alley, but this was the first one he had met and he assumed it was the same for her too. To double the irony for himself, it was all Cho's fault he had become interested in the youngest Weasley. He felt oddly compelled to thank her.

"David," they had all picked names to answer to while out in Diagon alley, or rather others had picked names for them. Names like Draco, Blaise, and Hermione weren't very common and so they were bound to stick out using their real names, "I hope you're planning on paying for this because if your not, then I think we're going to have to jump the bill." Ginny swilled her drink around in her glass. He laughed.

"Don't worry, I was planning on being the perfect gentleman."

"I certainly hope not." Her twinkling eyes turned wickedly to rove over his body. He felt his little self stiffen at the prospect.

They joked throughout the meal (a shared platter of spaghetti which provoked them into kissing several times like _the Lady and the Tramp, a Muggle movie he had seen once during his obsession with cartoons). Draco was amazed at how he never stopped flirting with Ginny, even when a more serious topic would wiggle into their conversation. He was more amazed at his little self's insistent yet slight pressure in his pants, which increased when Ginny playfully pressed her hand into his lap._

"Someone's a little excited," she said, pressing again.

"I wouldn't say a little…"

By the time an hour and a half was up, he wished it would start again, but he paid for the food and they stood to go. Ginny had eaten quite a bit, and he wondered how long it would be until her mother noticed her slightly protruding belly. Of course, the polyjuice potion hid that for now.

Next, he went off with Ron, who came to him with an amazing dilemma.

"I have no frigging clue what to get Hermione!" Ron looked about to faint.

"Whoa, hold on. Don't hyperventilate. What have you tried?"

"I've been looking all day, in book shops, jewelry shops, hell I even went to Madame Malkins but nothing seems right and this is our first Christmas together so I want everything to be perfect."

"You could try something unusual. Maybe you'll find something for Crookshanks," Draco had come to like the orange ball of ferocious fur, despite the extremely large quantities of fur he shed all over his clothes.

"But I don't want to get something for Crookshanks, I want to get something for Hermione."

"Well, I'd get jewelry but you said you'd already checked and I doubt you'd be able to afford it anyways," he smirked. Ron punched him in the arm. "But I need to go to the Apothecary for Harry's gift."

"What are you going to get him?"

"A few pickled eyeballs," Draco said with a grin.

"He'll kill you," Ron said, laughing.

"No, he'll treasure them for life. That or he'll look extremely awkward, stutter thanks, and hide them in a corner and hope that I'll forget them."

"Which you won't. That's priceless."

The Apothecary smelled horrible, but was brightly lit so you could see all the ingredients. Dried claws hung from the ceiling and jars of pickled somethings covered one wall. Draco examined the different pickled eyeballs while Ron wandered around the shop, stopping every once in a while. Draco picked two sheep eyeballs and called over the shop-keeper to fish them out for him. As the shopkeeper wrapped up his purchase (by putting them into fresh preservative in a small jar with an Unbreakable Charm on it), Draco went to find Ron, who stood and stared at a far filled with unicorn horns.

"They're beautiful," Draco said, snapping Ron out of his reverie.

"Yeah, but too expensive, I think."

"Maybe you could haggle."

"But they're _unicorn_ horns. They're really hard to come by because the unicorn has to be dead already."

"Hermione would really like one, wouldn't she?"

"Yeah, but it's not the most romantic gift…"

"She won't care about that. She'll care that it's from you and she'll love it because it will be practical if she need to use the horn. And like you said, they're not that easy to come by…"

"Right, so if I can get him down to 16 galleons, I'll get it." Draco watched him march over to the shopkeeper, a determined set to his shoulders. He moved closer to them, pretending to check the various bits of Dragon the shopkeeper sold.

"You've got to be mad to suggest 13 galleons. I'll give you 18."

"15," Ron said firmly, "and 15 Sickles and 13 Knuts. Oh, and a brand new trick wand. That's my final offer." The shopkeeper looked torn between accepting Ron's offer, amusement at the wand, and the desire to get more for the horn. The shopkeeper picked up the wand held in Ron's out stretched hand and peered at the base to find the maker's name.

 "Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, eh? Funny, I haven't seen this in their shop."

"It's one of their prototypes before they polished it to put in the shop. You'll notice it's a bit thicker then the shop one and they've got a different medium holding the magic. It doesn't work as well, but you're not going to buy one of these anywhere."

"Alright, you drive a hard bargain," the shopkeeper said after a moment, "I'll take your money and the wand. Merlin, imagine what I could get at auction for this in a couple of years," he muttered the last bit, but Draco, now having come up behind Ron, heard him clearly. Ron lay his money out on the table and placed the wand delicately on top. And the shopkeeper opened the jar, letting Ron choose the horn by levitating them all out of the jar. He then wrapped Ron's horn in soft paper before placing it gently in a wooden box.

"That was some bartering," Draco said as they exited the shop with their purchases.

"Yeah. But I've got more of those prototype wands then I know what to do with. Fred and George had already started mass producing those wands before they found the more stable magical medium. They gave them all to me for my birthday last year. Turned out to be a great present."

His hour and a half with Hermione were not as awkward as he expected it to be. They both needed gifts for Blaise and so he once more found himself inside Flourish and Blotts. 

"Y'know, I'd really like to get her a Muggle book. Would you mind going into Muggle London?"

"Er…are we allowed to?"

"Of course we are, Ginny and I went to a fabric store earlier. And I can transfigure your cloak, but would you be alright with it?"

"Uh…sure, but let me get my present for Blaise first. It's right across the street." Draco led her across the cobbled street to the magical instrument shop where he bought Blaise a compact mirror. One side held a mirror, the other held foe glass. He had seen it in the shop window earlier that day but didn't want to buy it in front of Blaise.

He followed Hermione to the Leaky Cauldron where she transfigured his cloak and hers and they stepped out into Muggle London. It was just as busy as Diagon Alley and Hermione, seeming to know the area well, led him to an enormous book shop. Inside, the shop, which turned out to be more of a store filled with hundreds of books, smelled clean and the roaring crown outside barely filtered through the clean, glass windows.

"What kind of book do you think she'd like?"

"Well, maybe something on Muggles."

"Draco, we're in a muggle shop."

"Maybe something on witches then?"

"Witches from a Muggle perspective…that sounds like a viable option." She marched determined through the store, passing shelves whose subjects were written haphazardly on slips of paper and taped to the shelves. She spent what seemed like a half-hour running her fingers over the spines of the books as she decided. Draco wandered off, making sure to keep within her sight. He stumbled upon a book of comics, drawn to them by their likeness to the cartoons he had previously been obsessed with. What's more, they weren't moving like a wizard's comic book.

" The Beano?" Hermione questioned, looking over his shoulder. Draco jumped.

"Um…well I used to watch cartoons when I was little. I found this television in the trash and figured out how to make it work with magic because I used my mother's wand and…" he shoved it back on the shelf, "it's more trouble than it's worth, anyways."

"No, you should get it. Even if you can't take it home, you can still read it when you're at headquarters." Draco's hand drifted to stroke the spine of the book.

"I don't have any muggle money; I'll pay you pay once we get into Diagon Alley." Hermione grinned.

"Ok." She picked up the book and slid it on top of the two books she had gotten Blaise.

Hermione paid for the books and they reentered Diagon Alley. She didn't bother to transfigure their cloaks; they'd be leaving soon anyways and he paid her back while waiting in front of Gringotts. The others joined them and they walked, tired out from a day of shopping, back to headquarters. This time, upon approaching the house, he saw it standing shabby and imposing between number 11 and 13. The sun hovered above one of the numerous chimneys before they were swallowed in the darkness of the hallway.

"Would you like to walk in the gardens, Draco?" He had dropped his purchases and cloak unceremoniously on his bed before she walked in emptyhanded. The gardens were heated because it was a courtyard that was expanded magically to look like plains and plains of endless space. A warming charm had been placed over the entire area like a cloak, and as long as you didn't go too far from the walls, you didn't feel the cold.

The garden had been the last to be tamed, or so she said. It ran for acres and a wild unicorn herd roamed the plain where the grass was now, untamed, the yellow glow of sunlight highlighting the foals. But what need have unicorns to hide themselves under total protection?

            She walked ahead of him, holding his hand and gently tugging him along as if he were a somewhat reluctant puppy. He wasn't reluctant, simply awed.

She looked like a fairy queen, settled in the grass, the grass seeming to creep all over her because of her dress. He sat beside her out in the open, watching the unicorn herd. Her belly swelled with pride as the hair set the gold in her hair alight like a chandelier. Time stopped and held its breath for them as she touched him like a lover. Not someone who he fucked, but his lover: the one who loved him. She was all he saw, and she was all his to love in return.

He kissed her gently, like he would sometimes when he managed to reign control over his hormones. Kissing, they spread out on the grass to lie.

"GINNY WEASLEY! WHAT IN THE NAME OF MERLIN ARE YOU DOING!" Mrs. Weasley stood in one of the doorways leading to the courtyard, a spoon whose end had been dipped in something red, like spaghetti sauce. It reminded Draco of blood.

"AND YOU!" she spun on Draco, who had now back away from Ginny. "TAKING ADVANTAGE OF MY DAUGHTER LIKE THAT! YOU SHOULD BE ASHAMED, AFTER ALL WE'VE DONE! I'VE TREATED YOU LIKE A SON AND-" he voice stopped suddenly as she eyed Ginny peculiarly, sizing her up.

"Mom…" Ginny said, her voice very small, "I know this isn't the best time…but…I'm kind of…pregnant."

"KIND OF PREGNANT!" Mrs. Weasley roared, charging towards them. "KIND OF _PREGNANT_!?! HOW COULD YOU EVEN THINK OF – AND NOT EVEN BOTHER TO TELL ME? HOW ARE YOU GOING TO GET A HUSBAND NOW? NO ONE WANTS A GIRL WHO'S NOT A VIRGIN, NEVERMIND ALREADY WITH A CHILD? WHO'S THE FATHER? WHO?"

"I am," Draco murmured, wrapping his arms around Ginny. "Just the first time it happened, we didn't know…well, we didn't know a lot but I didn't know it was the wrong time and she didn't know it was me and…"

"How could this happen?" Molly's eyes were teary.

"I won't let anything happen to Ginny, or to the baby. I won't let my father touch it. I won't let him hurt us. I won't."

"A Malfoy…a Malfoy as a part of our family…" Mrs. Weasley seemed to have forgotten them, murmuring to herself.

"I promise – I promise I'll take good care of her. And our child. I don't want to leave you all burdened. I intend to take as much share in the responsibility."

"Draco," Ginny teased, resting her head upon his shoulder, "you're making it sound like it's something awful." Molly had turned to go and Draco watched Molly's retreating back. There was definite slump to her shoulders, Draco thought, but that would be amended soon.

"It's not. It's the best thing that ever happened to me. Besides you."

~~~~~

Aw…Isn't Draco the sweetest? He's just a fluffernutter sandwich. This chapter just shot out of me like it came from a canon, well…it did, lol. Canon. Hyuck. I _crack_ myself up. Hehe, canon…crack…Whoo boy, I've had too much chocolate and not enough boyfriend.

Anime10473: I think Blaise knows how to _handle_ Harry. Someone _could barge in on Draco and Ginny, but Ron knows they've had sex so I don't think he's much inclined to kick Draco's sweet behind (oh how I'd love to sink my teeth into…) and someone could walk in on them, but that wasn't part of my original outline and it didn't fit with the rest so thank you for giving me the idea to entertain, even if I didn't implement it._

Adie: I'm so happy to make your day, but Draco can only go so long without having an orgasm and since masturbation is generally not something that's taken well and sex is good, I went for sex. (But if you want masturbation, then chapter 6 of Pigeons Plot in Secrecy, my other long story but not very good and highly unpolished, is for you).

Noelle: I am constantly writing, but whether it's in the next chapter is kind of arbitrary. Sometimes I get these strokes (heh heh, strokes. Dear lord I need my boyfriend) of brilliance for something further down the line. For example, you know that conversation with Tonks? I had written that when I was writing chapter 4. But thanks for letting me know you were in dire need of another chapter!

sakhara291: I'd call "intimate description of sexual acts" porn. Therefore "my writing"=porn. I'm flattered that you have begun to obsess over my story, or rather when it is updated.

Dracomio: Thank you, fair Dracomio, I hope by writing doesn't suck because then I would be in dire straights. Mainly because I would be distraught that my writing sucked. Thanks for reviewing.

Mina: Your wish is my command. ::nods head like Genie on that show from the 50s/60s/70s (pick one)::

Well now that I have answered my fanmail – well, I like to pretend I'm famous and that it's my fan mail – I shall retire and go read/write some porn. And for those of you who asked about the juicy stuff (hehe juicy…pussy) I'll e-mail you when it's ready. Until then, be content with my desire to finish the story (because I actually have an ending, and what an ending it is…). I love you all.


	10. all i want for christmas

Disclaimer: I don't intend to infringe on any copyright laws, I just want to exercise my freedom of speech.****

**All I Want For Christmas Is…**

"Draco? Where are you going?" Ginny raised her head slightly, her hair falling like a red curtain. He brushed it out of her eyes with his fingertips.

"To my room, silly."

"You don't have to," she exhaled, moving to rest her head in the crook of his neck while throwing an arm around him.

"Yes I do. What if we're discovered?" She bit his neck.

"We already have been. I've never seen Fred turn that particular shade of purple, and I have you to thank for the memory."

"At least I got through unscathed."

"Not for lack of trying. I do recall George throwing a knife towards your crotch…"

"I could never go through life a eunuch. Especially not with you around. Personally I thought your dad's eyebrow twitching as he gritted out 'be good to her' like he was being forced with the Imperio Curse was much more fascinating."

"Oh dad doesn't need the Imperio Curse. He's got mum." Draco laughed making Ginny's head bounce up and down. His hand moved to her now fully protruding stomach.

"I hope you don't intend to control me."

"I don't need to. I can just refuse to shag you." He rolled her onto her back.

"Then I _am_ in trouble, aren't I?" She didn't respond, kissing him instead and tapping him on the nose. He looked at her, taking her in, memorizing her every feature. Her hair spread out on the pillow and he pushed it out with his fingertips so it fanned around her head. Her eyes glittered amusement and she stroked a lock of hair, tucking it behind his ear. It had gotten long, reaching his chin.

"You two better be decent," Harry called from outside the curtain.

"Not a chance," Draco responded, dragging himself unwillingly off Ginny. As he dressed, she didn't leave him alone, tugging and playing with his penis even after he had put his pants on. "Gin, I have to leave."

"Not a chance," she mimicked, pushing him to the bed and pressing a searing kiss to his mouth.

"If you two are done snogging…" Ginny released his mouth, panting.

"Not quite…" Draco took this opportunity to escape her, running from where he wanted the most to be. Harry stood, leaning against the bedpost, an amused expression on her face.

"Blaise threatened to tie me to the bedposts if I tried to leave."

"Then you have that to look forward to." Harry chuckled, as Hermione entered the room.

"I suppose I do."

They entered the hallway and parted ways: Harry to Ron's room, him to Blaise's. Blaise was already sleeping when he entered and he went to his bed, climbing in apprehensively. He knew he wouldn't sleep today; it was Christmas morning and he had big plans. Without closing his eyes, he stared at the ceiling mulling over possible scenarios in his head. None seemed to fit. He supposed he would just have to wait for the opportune moment.

Draco slid out of bed once the first rays of light had battled through the grime-crusted windows. Dressing (Blaise had already left), he then padded down to the bathroom, slipping Ginny's present into his pocket as he left. Shouts of "Happy Christmas" reverberated in the giant enclosure, Fred and George racing around the large, communal tub, one carrying a tube of toothpaste, the other carrying two toothbrushes. It wasn't hard to see who had the advantage.

The hustle and bustle that came that morning didn't settle until breakfast, and only barely then. Everyone was eager to go to their presents and Draco wasn't surprised. He had never before been surrounded by such merriment on Christmas. Christmas at the manor had been like a Christmas card; the grounds were always flawlessly covered in snow, whether magical or real, which Draco was forbidden to ruin and Draco would endure his extended family. Last year, that had not only meant his grandparents from the Black side of the family, and his grandmother, a Malfoy, but also his aunt Bellatrix and her husband, Uncle Rodolphus. They would all sit around the Christmas tree (selected for height, breadth, and triangular shape) that was decorated with faeries and glass and crystal ornaments. One time Draco had made an ornament at school, when he was in his second year, and had asked to hang it on the tree. Disgusted, his father had dumped it unceremoniously in the trash and Draco had found it at the foot of his bed on Christmas morning. Dobby had walked around with bandages on his feet for a week.

After breakfast Mrs. Weasley shooed them all off to start preparing Christmas dinner, but Draco didn't want to be shooed. He followed her into the kitchen, carrying a pile of dishes that reached to his shoulders where she had started washing the dishes. The kitchen was intended for a house elf and many things had been engorged to human size. Still, Draco could see the marks on the wall where counters used to be and a coat hanger too small for a human that now held pots and pans. A door lead directly into the courtyard and the windows were clean, framed in yellow curtains and letting in the Bright sunshine. Outside, he saw there was only snow in the middle of the courtyard; close to the walls the grass was green as ever and the magical ivy creeping up the walls bloomed with metallically sharp flower. Draco knew from experience they were dangerous, used by wizards like Muggles used barbed wire: for protection.

"Mrs. Weasley...can I help?" She froze, mid-scrub. "With dinner." He added.

"Certainly," she smiled, layering it on her face as she layered food onto his plate, "but first we must do the dishes. They aren't going to clean themselves!" She laughed at her little joke, knowing full well that dishes _could_ clean themselves with the proper spell. Draco knew it too, but washing dishes with magic took time. He pushed up his sleeves and stuck his hands in the greasy water.

"If you must know...I've never done the dishes before."

"But you've been here for over a week. You must have at some point."

"I always switch for bathroom clean-up. It's something I'm more accustomed to." She didn't question and he didn't elaborate, but it was true. His father thought it was one of the worst punishments, to be cleaning something as dirty and used as a bathroom. It was right up there with whipping.

"Well, let me show you how."

Draco liked doing the dishes; he liked squirting the soap onto the dishes and have the food wipe away with ease. A thought that he was wiping other people's spit flittered across his mind, but he chased it with the thought of Ginny's spit and how almost every night he was coated in her spit and sweat. Despite her mother's presence, he couldn't help but enjoy the thought. 

"That went quickly," Mrs. Weasley interrupted his thoughts, stacking the last dish on the magically expanded drying rack. "Now to cooking. I assume you've never done this either." Draco shook his head. "They I won't have you doing any spells. Let's see... why don't I help you make a batch of cookies?"

She directed him to the ingredients, sitting and watching as he fetched jars, mixing bowls, spoons and measuring cups. Soon his arms up to his elbows were covered in flour and other powders and liquids, but for once Draco didn't care that he was getting dirty. He was having the time of his life.

"What do we do now?" Draco asked once the powders and liquids had combined to make a ball in his bowl.

"Now, we chill it and cut it later." She placed a chilling spell on the bowl, set it aside and proceeded to take a large ham out of the oven before she looked at him and laughed. "You'd best clean up, dear. You're a mess." Draco looked down at himself and saw that she was right. His shirt had smatterings of flour all over it, as did his pants, and his hands, although he had washed them, still felt a bit gritty from the flour.

"Er..."

"Don't worry, just come back in an hour and we'll cut the cookies before baking them." And with that, she banished him, turning to paint a clear glaze on the ham with a brush. He never thought he'd see something as funny as painting a ham.

The bathroom was empty, and he wondered if he had enough nerve to bathe in the communal tub. Finally, he stripped, set his towel down at the edge of the tub and reached for one of the taps with an azure handle that he thought might be turquoise. The tap spurted, having not been used in many years, before a steady flow of cool water flowed from the tap. He experimented with the different taps, finding it was very much like the prefect's bathroom, where different taps had water of different temperatures and scents, and a few varieties of bubbles. When the tub was full of bubbles and water he slipped into it and began swimming around. The door creaked open.

Draco froze, he was in the middle of the bath and would have to swim a bit to his towel.

"Would you mind if I joined you?" Ginny stepped to the edge of the bath and Draco smiled. He didn't want anyone but her seeing him in the bath, nevermind joining him in it. He watched, riveted, as she pulled her sweater, pale green in color to match her eyes, over her head, her hair drifting down, slightly staticked from the wool. Beneath she wore a plain, button up shirt and a school skirt and he watched as she slowly unbuttoned one button at a time. By the third button, he found himself walking towards her. By the last button he had lifted himself out of the bath and was pushing the shirt off her shoulders along with her bra straps. The bra came off next and he captured one in his mouth as she leaned up to him, the water from his hands and chest already making her torso wet. Unzipping her skirt and dropping it to the ground, he found she wasn't wearing anything underneath. He growled and tossed her into the bath, following her immediately after.

She was ready for him and pounced, pulling him beneath the water as she kissed him. He pulled her to the surface for breathing's sake and didn't bother with any foreplay; she had lifted her leg and was pulling him inside. He pressed her against the edge of the bath as they fucked while the water flowed around them, their moans echoing in the marble chamber. She grasped his butt, pulling him as close as she could, the swell of her stomach between them.

After their excursion in the tub, they lay on the edge on Ginny's towel (toweling off had led to another bout of intimacy). Draco played lazily with her hair which was clumped together because of the water. He separated it and twirled it around his finger as it dried, waving slightly and messily.

"Happy Christmas," she said.

"I'm having more than a happy Christmas." He rolled on top of her.

"Draco…we just bathed, and had sex for the third time."

"I'm a machine," he said, sucking on her neck.

"What if I told you I wasn't in the mood," she gasped, pulling him off her neck to look him in the eye.

"I'd say you were lying to me." She laughed.

"You are such an incredible bastard."

"I know." She pushed him off and ran a hand through her hair, making the part crooked.

"What time is it?" Draco asked suddenly, remembering the cookies. She checked her watch.

"About 10:30."

"Shit." He jumped up and dressed rapidly, while Ginny watched, partially amused. Draco was never rushed, unless she pushed him to the brink of his control and then they fucked like there was no tomorrow.

"What's wrong?"

"I told your mum I'd help with cookies."

"You? Baking cookies?" She jumped up and dressed, not as rapidly as he had but then again, he was taking care of his hair. "This I _have _to see."

"Be my guest," he murmured, emerging from one of the stalls, looking like perfection itself while she was just buttoning the last button. "Just one question: Are you going to prance about with no knickers all day?"

"Yes," she grinned, tracing her finger down his chest before cupping him. He groaned.  
            "You're going to be putting me under a lot of pressure, young lady."

"No, you'll be putting yourself under pressure. I'll just be inspiring that pressure." Without any further thought, she grabbed his hand and led him to the kitchen, guiding him as though he were a very small child. At the moment, he felt like he had the mental capacity of one.

"Oh, there you are," Molly said, jumping back as she dropped a piece of breaded chicken into the crackling oil in a pan on the stove. "I was beginning to think you had forgotten."

"I had, but I did remember."

"Ginny, make yourself useful. Cook the chicken while I show Draco how to cut cookies. Ready, Draco?"

He was and she showed him how to roll the dough and cut perfect circles with the brim of a glass. Soon, he had filled his pan and she put them in the oven while he cut more circles. Ginny watched as she fried the chicken for their lunch and Molly took the ham out of the oven once more for glazing.

By the time Ginny had finished cooking lunch, Draco didn't have any more dough to make another perfectly circular cookie. He frowned, staring at the small bit he had left.

"What am I supposed to do with this?"  
            "Eat it," she responded. He wrinkled his nose.

"But it hasn't been cooked!"

"Exactly." She stole a bit and popped it into her mouth. He reached and hesitated. "Oh, you big baby." She took the rest and forced it into his mouth before he could stop. He held onto her fingers as he sucked on the cookie dough. It was sweet, but definitely as good as a cookie. Of course, cookie dough was much better for sucking.

"Are you planning on letting go of my fingers?" He shook his head, biting gently.

"Fine. Just wait till mum notices." At that, he released her fingers and she raised them to her mouth, sucking them slowly.

"Tonight," she whispered.

"Yes, tonight." Ginny had no idea what was in for.

Draco had been distracted all through the afternoon: while helping Mrs. Weasley in the kitchen, and after being shooed out while playing in the snow with the others (he had needed another change of clothes, he was so wet from the snowball fight and making snow angels and generally ruining the snow's perfection) and all throughout the dinner. It had been a Christmas dinner unlike any other Christmas dinner he had ever eaten, but he would have been content simply watching. The twins had been more successful at stealing an alcoholic beverage and had needed a sobering charm by the time they had finished the Christmas pudding. It was after this they had all been herded into the drawing room for presents. Draco sat, Ginny on his knee, and stared at the slightly lop-sided Christmas tree whose boughs hung low because of the number of ornaments and Muggle lights (which Mr. Weasley had gotten tangled in when they tried to hang them). Draco could see his ornament among the jumble that had been hung because of Ginny's insistance; she had found it in his trunk.

Around the room, they all settled: Hermione on Ron's knee in the armchair, in a bit more of an intimate position than he and Ginny were in, Harry's arm snuck around Blaise's waist while her hand nonchalantly rested on his knee. Fred and George were making gits of themselves, having a fight over who sat on whose lap (trying to make the couples uncomfortable) and Mrs. and Mr. Weasley sat on the love seat, not displaying affection, but Mrs. Weasley smiling warmly at her husband who smiled warmly at the presents, flickering his gaze to Mrs. Weasley occasionally. Bill was with Fleur for the holidays (his tutelage of English had turned out not to be focused so much on the language and more on English men, specifically Bill) and Charlie was with his dragons. And his girlfriend who was the head dragon keeper in Romania.

"PRESENTS!" Mrs. Weasley roared, having finally noticed the twins. They stopped their fighting and pounced on the presents, disappearing in a flurry on paper. Everyone else was more graceful unwrapping their presents. Mrs. Weasley had taken a butter knife to cut open the paper so she could save it for later use.

It wasn't long before the paper-unwrapping stopped and the exclamations of thanks stopped. Draco could help but notice Ginny hadn't given him a present. He didn't quite mind; having her sitting in his lap on Christmas day, with the firelight glinting off her hair was a better present than he could have ever expected. During a calm after the storm of giving and receiving, she shoved a soft package into his hands.

"Open it." He tore off the paper eagerly, finding a roll of cloth in the package. He unrolled it and found it was a tapestry, embroidered with names. _The Traitors_ read across the top, and he saw a family tree comprised of all the people who were scorched off of the Black family tree. Along with those names, the names of other bloodtraitors and muggle borns who had married them interwove, connected with delicately embroidered gold lines. Every member of the Order had found their way onto the tapestry, whether through marriage of simply being set to the side. He noticed _Ginny Weasley_ had been placed strategically close to his name. She had even put down Blaise who stood unconnected to any name (but very close to Harry's).

"H – how did you know? I mean…it's beautiful…" He ran his hand lovingly over it. "But wait, it's missing something." Her face fell.

"What?" With the tip of his wand, he traced a line between their names leaving a gold line in its wake that lasted for a few seconds before disappearing. She looked at him searchingly and he withdrew the gift he had bought her in Hogsmeade from his pocket. He opened his mouth to ask her but she cut him off.

"Don't even ask, Draco Malfoy. You already know the answer."

"Say it," he whispered as he slipped the emerald-studded ring on. It was white gold; a compromise of silver and gold.

"Yes." She stared at the ring, then at him, then at the ring, and finally rested on him, a smile lit in her eyes.

"Oh," Mrs. Weasley cried, completely ruining the mood, "my baby's getting married! My youngest is the first to get married!"

~~~~~

I've had that engagement thing planned for a while; it's so good to finally get it out. It's like holding anger…Anyways, this chapter was a bit fluffier than I expected, but I had to give a bit of background before dropping the engagement bomb on all of you, now didn't I? I'm sorry I was cheap and copped out of writing the whole confrontation scene, but quite honestly most of the ones I've read the Weasleys are either too impassive or…something else. I just don't think I'd do a very good job and so I gave you the highlights. Also, I'm thinking of renaming the story, but I'm not sure what. I'm going to write a Blaise/Harry companion story and I'm thinking of calling _that_ Thrill of the Hunt instead because, well, Blaise is hunting Harry with her poker. But I might not, maybe I'll name that "Captivating". Hmm… I like that…no wait, that's my other D/G fic, lol. So now I am advertising. As you can see, I have many dead-end stories I have written one or two chapters for. But I have another one I'm outlining. Captivating. This story ("Thrill") has maybe another three chapters left. Maybe four. So after that look for "Captivating" and the Blaise/Harry fic that has yet to be named. Hmmm… Maybe "Let me fuck you, lusty man" or "Lust lust lust lust" Or maybe even "i am NOT a lesbian". As for this story, it will be renamed when I revise it. That will be after this is finished after the first chapter of Captivating, and before the first chapter of "lust lust lust lust". Anywho, on to my shout-backs.

Gwuinivyre: Ah, laziness, the bane of my existence. Good thing it has yet to encroach on my writing otherwise you all would be waiting ::gasp:: weeks for an update. Actually, that's more like during the school year.

Adie: Kudos on the long review. Well, the two long reviews. It got through to me, even if it didn't show up on ff.net. You're in no way a freak. That was just me being boyfriend deprived. That whole commentary crap was all my bf-deprivedness. I'm happy you agree with my Ron/Draco relationship (lol don't we all wish…). I do think I hear Draco object to being called a "little player", lol. As to the Catholic School, I used to go to Quaker school; not the same thing, but still religion shoveled down my throat. So what am I saying. I don't have any clue. But what I want to say is I don't think you're a freak. (Well, you _are reading Harry Potter fan fiction…)_

Mrs. Rachel Riddle: I'll hold him down. Lol. ::blushes at your praises and curtsies like a good little girl::

MelissaAdams: You were right on the money! Awesome! It makes me happy when one of the reviewers guesses where it's going. Well, unless I shock them (Ginny's pregnancy sure was a shocker).

Dracomio: It was Draco crying at the end of the dream. Sorry for copping out of writing that scene, but just think of the twins chasing Draco around with less than blunt objects and you'll get the picture.

sakhara291: Ah, fluffy goodness. It fills the gaps in the story when I have no plot in mind, or at least no direct plot. You'll get a lot of elaboration on the Blaise/Harry Combo in the future when I write that "nameless story". Think hot poker. Now think two hot pokers: one metaphoric and one very much alive.

Nirvanagurl1220: There you went. I hope this update was as satisfying as the rest of the story. By the by, I LOVE NIRVANA. There, I got that off my chest.

LiLi: Not a D/G fan, eh? We'll have to convert you…Let's try some ways people converted pagans. MASSACRE. Well, no. Maybe I do have nerve announcing my reading habits. But for the record I _do _read things that a nun would approve of. Charles Dickens, for example, is one of my favorite authors (pity he's dead…or I'd be his groupie). I'm glad to provide some entertainment, I do like pleasing people. Besides, I am VERY indignant that NC-17 is no longer featured on ff.net. I think people deserve a choice and to simply have the choice taken away. Don't like it, don't read it. And if there is something you can do to help, then do so (like asking for a lower rating of the story and not taking away my lemons. I do love lemons. So sour…). This comment about NC-17 isn't directed at you, it's directed at the moderator to whom I would VERY MUCH LIKE TO EXPRESS MY DISPLEASURE. I hope He heard me. It's kind of like talking to He Who People Worship. God, Allah, whoever, (but not Buddha. I would like to correct everyone who thinks Buddhists pray to Buddha. We don't. We don't pray. Well, not much.) Now, on to some light humor…

Mina: I had a light dosing of pleasure for you in this chapter. The dream came to me when I was just falling asleep. It's brutal to get strokes of brilliance when you're about to go into lala land. I had to get Molly aggravated, and the rest of the family had to find out about Draco and her. And of course their little bundle of joy.

karlin88: thanks very much (read the review and you'll see why I am a humor goddess. That or you'll throw rotten tomatoes)

Oh, and about the racy tidbits. I haven't written them yet. I want to finish the story, but I will tell everyone who has e-mailed me for the chapters where to find them. Check my profile for my e-mail. Thanks so much to everyone who took the time to review and I would love any other reviews. I like knowing what's going on inside your head.


	11. Lifeless Narcissus

Disclaimer: I don't intend to infringe on any copyright laws, I just want to exercise my freedom of speech.****

**Lifeless Narcissus**

Draco had wished this day would never come. His head bounced slightly against the window as the train sped on to Hogsmeade. This time, they weren't alone; there were a few older Hogwarts students on the train and so they were restrained as to what they talked about. He could, however cuddle with Ginny, and knowing that it was her beneath the polyjuiced exterior provided some comfort, but he wondered when was the next time he would be able to hold her, just like he was. He didn't know when they'd get married; if they did his father would find out because it would be recorded not only at the ministry, but in the Muggle lawbooks as well. He supposed after the war.

Ginny snuggled into him. Even if she didn't look like Ginny, she still smelt like her and he nuzzled her hair with his nose.

"Who would've thought that you, of all people, are fond of cuddling?"  
            "Certainly not me."

He had felt very protective over her recently, mainly because she hadn't been feeling good. She had been throwing up a lot, which wasn't good for the baby, but Molly had assumed that was just because Ginny hadn't thrown up during her first trimester. She joked that Ginny was a late bloomer, whether it was getting her period or having morning sickness. Draco didn't think it was so funny.

They were nearing the end of their journey, and once at Hogwarts Blaise and Draco would branch off from the group and return to their homes while Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny would return to headquarters. Every moment that passed Draco felt was precious, like time was holy water slipping through his fingers and no matter how hard he tried, he could stop time from passing him by. Next to him, Blaise and Harry were wrapped around each other in an equally intimate position. He stared out the window, at the houses that were coming closer and closer together, their thatched roofs covered in snow.

"Hogsmeade Station," a voice sounded magically in the compartment, and Draco reluctantly released Ginny. They gathered their trunks and took a horseless carriage to the castle. It was warm inside the castle, a nice feeling compared to the biting chill outdoors, but Draco couldn't help but feel apprehensive with every step he took. It was as if with every step he shook off the carefree feelings he had been harboring the past two weeks and left they like a puddling trail behind him. The door to the infirmary was shut firmly with Dumbledore sitting in front of it.

"Quickly, inside. We want you to get in before they arrive." Draco knew he meant their parents – Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had come along so that they could retrieve their children as well as Harry and Hermione – and he stepped through, the others following quickly. The patients were already awake and he strode over to the one who looked like himself.

"Blimey," the man said, his thick Irish accent clouding his words, "I never thought I'd see something as strange as myself walking towards me."

Dumbledore waved his wand, making the fake trunks disappear and they deposited their trunks where the fake ones used to be.

"Now what do we do?" Ron asked, or at least the one who was sitting next to the person who looked like Ron.

"We wait for the potion to wear off." They sat awkwardly for a few moments before Hermione suggested a game of Exploding Snap which they all played – even Dumbledore. A half hour later, Draco realized he recognized the hands that held his playing cards and saw that the person sitting next to him, who used to look like Draco, looked like the person Draco had been. It was then that he stopped playing and called Blaise to him. They separated from the group; he wouldn't have played cards with Muggles and Muggle-lovers before. After the next game, Dumbledore asked the six people who had pretended to be Draco and the rest to go to Hogsmeade station to wait for him and they did, leaving dutifully. Frowning he turned to Draco.

"Forgive me," he said, pressing his forefinger to Draco's temple. Draco watched has the headmaster's face became graver and graver with every passing moment.

"What is it?" Ginny had come to stand beside him.

"Draco, you're poisoned." Draco's knees buckled and he sank down on the bed. How could he be poisoned?

"Poisoned? With what? By whom?"

"I am afraid I do not know. I'll have to get Severus to get a look at you; hopefully we can administer the antidote. I don't want to lie to you, Draco, the poison is very strong."

"I…my mother. You'll have to get her away from my father."

"That can be arranged." Dumbledore's eyes had lost their sparkle, but Ginny's eyes were shining more than ever.

"In my trunk, there's a key to my vault. It's got my initials engraved on it. Use it for the child."

"I will," Ginny whispered, drawing him into a hug. "But you're not going to die, I won't let you." Over her shoulder, he saw Dumbledore smile a remorse filled smile. Draco knew he could very well die. He didn't know how long he had been poisoned for.

"I think…I'd like to go for a walk. Alone," he added, looking pointedly at Ginny, "if you don't mind."

"No, go ahead."

He wanted some time to think without the disturbance of his hormones or the _crucio_ of his father's wand. Poisoned. All the promises he had made to Ginny and her family; they had involved her living. Poisoned. The empty castle provided perfect isolation. He found himself led to the Astronomy Tower. Poisoned. Looking around the room brought many memories, most of lust, but one of love. It was here Ginny had shouted that she loved him and her voicing of the emotion had made him falter, completely surprised until an emotion surged powerfully within him. It was like his heart was contracting and exploding at the same time and he had almost run back to her but control had reigned him and sent him in the opposite direction. Poisoned. He would never be able to show her the extent of his emotion if he died. They had only just begun with each other. Poisoned. It wasn't fair.

The door creaked open and he turned to face the intruder. It was Ginny; she must have followed him.

"How are you?" Her voice was a little too bright; she must be hiding some emotion.

"Not so good." She walked over and sat beside him on the step, just like she had that night when she had told him she was pregnant. In the dim light, her stomach looked smaller.

"Draco…" she placed her hand soothingly on his knee. Usually she would hug him and rub his back, but he supposed that was under different circumstances. He was faced with death now, not old memories. He took the hand and placed a kiss on her palm. She leaned in to kiss him, her fingers spreading and meshing with his. Each finger felt the same.

"Ginny?" he asked, pulling away, "where's your ring?"

"Ring?" she replied, bewildered. A thought fell upon him as though he was struck by a falling hippogriff.

"Who are you?" he demanded, pushing her against the iron banister, "and why are you pretending to be Ginny?"

He didn't find out, because she whispered something and the world went black.

Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy arrived to find the Weasleys waiting patiently in the waiting room. The Zambinis hadn't yet arrived and the Malfoys were reluctant to share the waiting room with such filth as the Weasleys but they didn't want to make a scene. Narcissa just wanted her son back; it was bad enough he had missed Christmas.

They sat primly as far away from the Weasleys as was possible. They waited another 15 minutes before the Zambinis arrived and Mrs. Malfoy rose to greet them, as if she had invited them to a garden party. The Zambinis were a very old wizarding family and Mr. Malfoy was pleased that his son was dating their daughter. A marriage to a Zambini was just as good as a marriage to a Parkinson, if not better; the Zambini's were advocates for the cause, even if they weren't part of the Dark Lord's circle.

"What are we waiting for?" Mrs. Zambini asked Mrs. Malfoy as she took a seat next to her.

"I don't know. Knocking just seemed like a bad idea." As if on cue, Dumbledore opened the door.

"Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy, Mr. and Mrs. Zambini, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, I am afraid you can not return with your children home. Draco went to the bathroom two hours ago and hasn't returned. I'm having the children search the castle and if you all would help I am sure he can be found more quickly. I know that it has been some time since you were students here and so the corridors may be unfamiliar but we need all the help we can get."

Mr. Malfoy cursed silently. The boy was much more trouble than he was worth. Mrs. Malfoy, sunk further into her chair.

"He hasn't run away, has he?" she asked in a small voice. Dumbledore smiled kindly.

"I'm certain he hasn't run away, but perhaps Peeves got to him."

"Damn poltergeist," Mr. Malfoy muttered, whirling to lead the pack on the hunt. The boy would pay dearly for his trouble.

"Is the map broken?" Ginny asked. All five of them were now hidden in the broom closet.

"Of course not," Hermione scoffed, "the Marauder's map never lies. This means he's not in the castle."

"But he could be anywhere!" Ginny exclaimed, feeling suddenly very teary eyed.

"Where do those passages lead?" Blaise asked, tracing her finger along one of the passages that led off the map.

"Hogsmeade," Harry replied glumly, "and after that, who knows where he could be."

"We'd better check the passages then," Ron said.

"But there are seven of them and only six of us," Blaise interjected.

"Wait," Ginny said, "we also need to get Narcissa Malfoy into safety. So use one of the ones Filch knows about to get her to safety. Dumbledore can get her away from Hogwarts and cave in the passage; make it look like an accident."

"Ginny, that's brilliant! Two birds with one stone! Dumbledore can check the passage for us! I'll go tell him and then check this passage." Harry pointed to one towards the middle. "Blaise, you take this one, there's a tapestry of horses over the entrance and the password's _Centaur_. Ron, the next. Hermione, this one. And Gin, oh you better take Hermione's, Hermione knows how to get past the Whomping Willow. Look for a mirror, the entrance is behind it. You have to trace you wand around the mirror before it will let you through. Mind you, the passage is caved in about halfway but Draco might not know that."

"Why do you think he left?" Ginny asked.

"I think he might have tried to leave so he wouldn't have to die at his home. I think that if he was going to die, he wanted to do it around you. Also…he might have died already, which would be why he doesn't show up on the map. It only shows spirits. If there isn't a spirit in the body…it might not show up." Ginny blinked fiercely.

"He didn't die." Ron pulled her into a hug, something he hadn't done in a long time. A few tears escaped her before she could stop them and he rubbed her back like her mother would.

"Right then…so we should split up."

"Dumbledore!" Harry called, running towards the headmaster. Dumbledore was finally alone and Harry didn't want anyone to be suspicious.

"What's the rush, Harry?"

"I figured out a way to get Mrs. Malfoy to safety." He explained the plan and Dumbledore cracked an amused smile.

"I think that will work quite nicely. Unfortunately, I will not be able to accompany Narcissa, but I think Mrs. Weasley would be up to it. Harry, I am aware that you are in possession of an invisibility cloak. Would you fetch it? And…let's see." He conjured a set of women's robes. "Give these to Molly. But what to do about a body…I suppose I'll have to transfigure something. Harry, would you know where I could find a doll of some sort? Preferably blond. I could always summon one…"

"You could check the Room of Requirement?"

"No, it can't be magically made if it's to withstand the transfiguration."

"There's a vampire doll in the Defense Against the Dark Arts Classroom."

"I suppose that will have to do." He summoned it and it sped into Dumbledore's outstretched hand from a nearby classroom. He transfigured it and in his hand, Narcissa Malfoy stared blankly up, blood leaking from her mouth.

"Give this to Molly as well. Tell her to engorge it and put an Obvious charm on it. She should take Narcissa under the invisibility cloak to the Three Broomsticks and Madame Rosmerta is to keep her in the back room. Narcissa will fight Molly but have Molly tell her about her son and his leverage there. She should know he is dying. Walk with them. I assume you know other ways into the castle from Hogsmeade and Molly will need to get back before she is suspected."

They had emerged, one by one from the broom closet, Ginny was the last to leave. She ran up the four flights of stairs, nearly falling in a trick step in her haste. The hallway was eerily quiet, but she rushed onwards, checking every room for a mirror. Finally the fifth room she checked had one. It was Gilderoy Lockhart's old office; it wasn't any wonder why he had chosen this room. The mirror was beautiful, full length with a molded copper edge and clawed feet. Tentatively, she walked to the mirror, almost afraid it would bite. She withdrew her wand and traced the edge. Nothing seemed to happen, her reflection stared back at her as scared as ever. She lifted her hand and touched the surface. It bent for her, like her was pushing clear dough, before her hand slid through. The mirror felt like water and she withdrew her hand fully before stepping through the mirror. She turned, staring in amazement at the back of mirror. Looking through it was like looking in a window, even the light shone through.

"_Lumos_!_" she muttered, starting down the musty passage. The stone floor wanted cleaning and the passage wanted airing, no light came through and it slanted downwards in a spiral. If she tripped she would probably slide to the bottom, she thought._

The slanting and spiraling ended abruptly to leave a level passage that was wide with a reasonably high ceiling so she didn't have to duck. Tired of running, she walked quickly, the wand providing little light to reveal what lay ahead, often she came upon sharp turns in the passage that made her almost walk into the wall before she realized the turn. Along the passage were little bits of Zonko's memorabilia and chocolate frog wrappers. She thought one dated back to the 1800s but she didn't stop to sate her curiosity. In the distance, she saw another wandlight illuminating the area and she ran faster. She could see two figures very close together. Then a blast of green light lit the entire passage – she could feel the power reverberating off the walls – and one of them fell to the ground.

"DRACO!!!"

"I won't work against Lucius," Narcissa said, sitting on the bar stool as if it were a throne.

"You won't have to."

"I only came because Draco wished me to."

"I understand. I have children."

"No, you don't. Draco's all I have. I fear Lucius but Draco's my little boy."

"I have gotten to know Draco over the past two weeks. He's a good boy, when he's not pressured to be otherwise." Harry wandered around the room, half-listening to their conversation but feeling like he was intruding somehow.

"I happy to hear that."

"My daughter's pregnant."

"And she's not even married," Narcissa scoffed.

"She's pregnant with your son's child."

"Draco would never be so careless."

"She's in love with him," Molly continued, "and so whether I like it or not I have to deal with him. Not only has he fathered my first grandchild, but if he dies, she'll pine for him."

"What do you mean, 'if he dies'." Narcissa's perfect composure faltered.

"He's been poisoned," Harry said, staring at a crack in the paint on the wall, "we don't know why or by whom but he's dying. Dumbledore promised you safety and we don't know whether Draco's going to make it or not. We don't even know how long he's been poisoned, or what he's poisoned with and so Dumbledore has given you safety, just in case the worst should happen."

"My baby…" Narcissa breathed, clutching her breast as though her heart was being ripped out and she was trying desperately to keep it.

"I'm sorry," Molly said, "but you're his mother and you should know. I think it would be best if our grandchild knew you. You're not as cold as you seem and if you won't work for us, it would be best if you can't work against us." Narcissa stared in shock at a hole in the carpet.

"We'll be back," Harry said after a moment, "but Mrs. Weasley and I really should get back to school. We don't want to be missed."

"I'm going to be a grandmother," Narcissa said, smiling tearfully. The two women hugged.

"He can't hurt you, not with us protecting you, and the baby." She grasped Molly's hand between her own.

"Thank you."

Harry ushered Mrs. Weasley out, leaving his invisibility cloak with Mrs. Malfoy and led the way to Honeydukes. It wasn't very busy and he led Mrs. Weasley to admire a display of sweets near the partition. When the man at the counter was wrapping up someone else's purchases he ducked under, beckoning for Mrs. Weasley to follow. In the storeroom, he found the trap door and opened it, letting Mrs. Weasley down first before climbing down himself. He closed the door and followed Mrs. Weasley who was already walking down the passage, her wand lit and held high before her. Harry lit his own and they walked briskly down the passage.

"It's filthy down here," Mrs. Weasley commented.

"I don't think the house-elves know about this passage, which is good for us students who want to sneak out of the school, so the dirt is a small price to pay."

"In my day, we were content to stroll about the grounds."

"I think it's too risky; the Forbidden Forest has its dangers and Filch will report you, though Hagrid's nicer, not to mention if you wake up a portrait you're instantly reported because the inhabitants have free roam." Ahead, another light shone towards them, like a car headlight.

"Harry?" he heard Blaise call.

"Yeah?"

"Did you find him?" she was running towards him and he could see Ron and Hermione with her.

"No, you?"

"No. We can't find Ginny either, but we haven't tried her passage," Ron replied.

"That's odd. Her passage is shorter then ours. Maybe she found him then."

"Probably. We'd better hurry," Hermione said before turning to Mrs. Weasley. "Is everything set with Mrs. Malfoy?"

"Yes, but what's all this about Ginny's passage?"

"We'll explain later. You probably shouldn't come with us; the adults would wonder why you're missing. Just tell Dumbledore everything's set and be seen about." They had reached the chute and scuttled up, one by one.

"Alright, just be careful," Mrs. Weasley said, patting her hair.

"Are we ever?" Ron asked, grinning.

"Never. Now go before I have a heart attack worrying about Ginny and forbid you to."

~~~~~

Narcissus are a flower, I was going to choose "dead roses" as the chapter title but any excuse to rhyme is a good excuse. This is quite a bit more Cassandra Claire-like with all the skipping around but it was quite a bit of fun. And of course you're all dead curious about what happened to Draco…and only I know. Oh, I feel so evil. It's a nice feeling.

Dukerbrown: Thanks! But what do you mean about introduce the baby? When is it going to be born? Or do the Weasleys know about it? The Weasleys do know about it because Molly knows about it and Molly rules all, lol. I hope that answers your question.

Kk: Sorry, I missed the more bit. But here you go.

Gwuinivyre: If your 'Anna and the King' movie disappears, I didn't steal it. :: hides movie behind back:: I'm glad you aren't turned away by the amount of sex I like to pack into my stories, or that the other stuff balances out the sex, because PWPs can only provided so much entertainment. And I'm proud you signed in. :gives you a Hershey Kiss and runs away with the movie::

Dracomio: Ah what would the world be without fluff? Very hard I think. So here's your padding so you don't strain your back.

Lunebeam: I have to disagree with the best poem ever bit, I prefer Robert Frost's "The Road Not Taken" but it _is_ a great poem. Thanks for reviewing!

Adie: I couldn't bear to have Draco make a speech. I mean, Ginny already made one and I thought it was painfully awkward but anywho, I'm glad that my proposal was to your satisfaction. It came to me by moonlight…

Flirtin' Hogwarts Girl: Thanks!

Anime10473: Cuteness is my specialty (I was _the cutest four year old. I wanted to be a movie star and would wear these star-shaped glasses). Ah, mawwage (like the priest in 'the Princess Bride'). And here's your more. Thanks for being such a faithful reviewer._

And to all those who are reading without reviewing, it would make me very happy if you reviewed. Every girl likes to feel special and it makes me feel special when I get reviews because I know people are enjoying themselves. I'm a people-pleaser, what can I say?


	12. Haunted

Disclaimer: I don't intend to infringe on any copyright laws, I just want to exercise my freedom of speech.****

**Haunted**

Draco awoke to find Ginny looking at him curiously while sitting on a rock. The wall behind her wasn't really a wall; it was a pile of stone that reached up to the ceiling, blocking her path. For someone who had no way to escape, she seemed awfully nonchalant.

"You're awake," she said in simple recognition. He tried to get up, to attack the imposter, but found he couldn't move from the wall where he had been propped.  He stood above her, yet she showed no fear, no concern for her well-being. It was probably because he was stuck to the wall with a binding hex, preventing him from moving anything but his head and his thumbs but that wasn't much help; was he supposed to poke her into letting him go? Idly, the girl took his wand from her pocket and began twirling it between her fingers, taunting him. He was helpless and she wanted him to know it.

"Who are you?" She stopped twirling the wand, looking at him blankly.

"You'll find out soon enough, not that it matters." Pocketing the wand, she stood and came closer to him. "I could save you from your fate, but I won't," she spoke, Ginny's voice sweetening the words, but her mouth twisted in a way that was most certainly not one of Ginny's habits. Maybe he could goad her into telling.

"So let me guess, you're one of the Dark Lord's minions and you've learned that I've become a traitor. So, you've poisoned me and now you're going to watch me die." She smiled, the evil grin not suiting the face that he loved so much.

"You're right…and wrong."

"So you're the Dark Lord's minion –"

"Me? Work for You-Know-Who? Ha! I don't work for anyone but myself."

            "Did you actually say 'Ha!'?"

"Shut it, little boy."

            "How many times do I have to tell people. I am not little."

            "I said to shut your mouth!" Despite how much he wanted to retort "No, you said 'Shut it'", his wiser self clamped his jaws together. She trailed her finger lovingly along her wand. "Now…where were we…ah, yes. You're going to die, and I want you to know why.

            "You're going to die of a particularly evasive poison. It takes a week to work, but it thoroughly and completely destroys at the end of that week. Every part of your body will be saturated with the poison and by now, it's too late to administer the antidote; you're at the last stage before death. If you do try the antidote, it will only give a few more days, and every time you take it, you will be more repulsed by it." She described the symptoms with glee. "Your throat will refuse it, pushed on by the poison, until your throat becomes so irritated with the battle between the poison and the antidote that you won't be able to swallow and if something does manage to get down your throat you will vomit it up and the acid in your stomach will eat away at your throat and you will die of internal bleeding. So it's best to accept it Draco, and avoid all the waste of ingredients for the antidote. It's rather expensive."

            "What am I supposed to accept?"

            "The fact that you are going to die. 

            "I already have." He could see changes in her face already: her nose becoming flatter, her hair and eyes darkening. 

"Cho," he breathed. Her smile widened, the smile changing from one familiar form to another.

"Yes, I'm here. And you'll pay dearly for your actions."

"The only mistake I made was falling in love."

"And what a horrible mistake it was. I would have been content to only kill you, but you had to go fall in love. So now you'll both die: you and your lovely little strumpet." Her words sunk in and he glared at her. _Virginia_…

"Wasn't it enough to just take me?"

"No," she smiled sadly, the maniacal look in her eyes glasses with tears. " You have to understand, it's all for the best. You've all left me, everyone I've loved. First Cedric dies, then Harry falls in love with that … know-it-all" – assuming that she meant Hermione, he desperately wanted to point out that Hermione was dating Ron – " and then you go for some red-headed shrimp and all I can say now is 'fuck you'. Fuck all of you." He kept silent, willing her to continue. "I had to make her die. Teach the little strumpet a lesson about messing with one of my boys. I had to." Draco wasn't sure who she was convincing.

"Why me?" She looked at him, a tear rolling down her cheek. Her voice cracked as she spoke.

"Cedric's already dead. That was his gift to me. We need Harry Potter to save the world." She turned, her long hair cuffing his stomach. "I don't like You-Know-Who any more than I like you, and I'm making you die. It's only fair that he dies too. Harry Potter is the only one that can make him go away, I know it like I know you'll die. It's the truth, and I can feel it humming in my body." She whipped back to him.

"But you. You have no purpose in life except to support the one I hate. And I hate you too. It's like snapping the head off a Belinda doll." She gestured the action with her hands, a five-year-old glee plastered to her face. "You can only do it once and the doll can never be fixed. You'll never be fixed." And she wanted to destroy Ginny too. She knew that it would hurt him more to hurt Ginny; she knew that it wasn't enough to kill just him. He felt a surge of protectiveness followed by anger. The emotions spiraled within him, a tornado set to release itself whose power was heightened with every word she spoke.

"It sounds like you're the one who needs fixing," he grit out.

"Don't try to fix me, I'm not broken." Her once hard voice became soft and wistful. "They've all tried, they've tried to get me to talk about Cedric. But they came too late. I didn't want to talk anymore, but the pain didn't stop. You and Harry had to keep hammering it in, didn't you? I hate you." Her hands dropped limp at her sides. She turned to him, her eyes sad and lonely like the first night they had been together.

"The Astronomy tower is one of the most well-known places for privacy. But there are other things that need privacy. Sex is one. But there's also grief.

"I was there that night when you two met. I was crying but you came in and didn't notice me hiding behind the big telescope. I found out about you two, about why you didn't want me any more and I found out what you did with her. You made life with her and I can tell you'd do it again if you had the chance. You liked making life with her and you wanted to do it again. No one wants to make life with me.

"I wanted to kill that life, to rip it from her body. But I waited; I'm a Ravenclaw and I know not to be ruled by foolish emotions. Her family would make her do it. That or they'd kill you. And I was happy you'd suffer. I was happy that someone else would feel sad." She touched his chin and he jerked away. Furious, she plowed on.

"But then you were knocked out by the mandrakes. And I knew I had my chance to poison you. But no students were allowed in the hospital wing and wards were placed around it. How odd." Draco's body felt very tense, as if he was being knotted again and again into a ball. His ears began to ring.

"So I went home with the poison already made. Somehow I'd do what I wanted to and you'd suffer because I'd kill you and no one would suspect me. My grandfather spends his days at Platform 9 ¾. He likes the trains, you see. He told me about Molly Weasley and how she greeted you all. She didn't know who each of you were. But wasn't it odd that the Weasleys were meeting 6 people on the platform on a train that came from Hogsmeade? And the wards on the hospital, what were they doing there? Dumbledore couldn't know my plans to harm you. And then, it clicked. You were on the train. You and your strumpet and your bundle of life. And I could kill you. You were in London and if I could just get my hands on you…

"I asked dear old Gong-Gong to tell me what the people looked like. He told me, quite accurately, as I would find out. I asked about Mrs. Weasley and how she greeted you, but she made no difference between any of you. She didn't know who was who. So all I had to do was find one of you; surely you wouldn't be stupid enough to go out without being in disguise. I kept my eyes open, always watching and waiting. And then you played right into my hands." His ears rung louder but he maintain a desperate control on himself, trying to hear every word of what she had done to use it against her. He wouldn't die; he refused to die.

"I work at a restaurant in Diagon Alley. Your favorite restaurant, actually. I used to serve you all the time. And you brought your little strumpet in and I jumped at the chance. You didn't suspect me in the least, you thought I didn't know who you were. But I saw how you two were together, and how she ate. She ate like a pregnant woman even if she didn't look like one.

"It's not hard to poison food if you're the waitress, you just pretend to be adding a sprinkle of cheese of something and add the drops in. It was brilliant. I'll never be caught; you can't prove anything. And you'll die. All three of you will die." She smiled playfully at him and tapped his chest with her wand. The ringing wasn't quiet anymore, it was a roaring inferno inside his head. Sweat beaded on his forehead as the painful inferno ate at him, making his eyes see…green.

"Tick tock, Draco, it's only a matter of time." He burst. A flash of green light erupted from her wand, not towards him but towards her, blowing her to the other wall where her body hit with a sickening crack and she slid down, landing in a heap on the floor.

"DRACO!!!" He heard her voice and knew it was her, followed by pounding footsteps as she ran towards him. The binding hex as been reversed with the explosion of light. He took a step towards her and the world spun for a moment before his knee gave way and he sunk. She caught him before he reached the ground.

"Oh, Draco…" Her hair whirled messily around her and he had to try twice before his eyes focused and he could see her properly.

"Ginny…" He snuggled into her comfortable arms, her intoxicating scent taking over his senses. She had begun to kiss him and he pulled her down beside him, laying out as they kissed. Somehow, it was a moment for kissing, but he felt so tired.

"Ginny, you're poisoned too."

"What?"  
            "Cho told me. You're poisoned too. I…the baby…" She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him closer. Suddenly, she stiffened looking over her shoulder.

"I don't think the human body's supposed to bend like that…is she dead?"

"I think I might have killed her. I just…I guess I exploded and the Killing Curse came out of me." His vision was becoming fuzzy again and he fought to see her; he had to see her.

"I felt it; it was really strong magic."

"No wonder I'm so tired." He kissed her gently, cradling her head between his palms. "Ginny…before I go…I want you to know…I love you." He closed his eyes, his lips barely brushing her, his palm resting on her stomach.

"I know, Draco, I love you too." She felt his body go limp in her arms, and pulled him tighter, as if she could keep him if she held tight enough. But she felt him leaving, even though his body was still warm and she kissed his lips before settling her head in the hollow of his neck to cry.

_The corridor was dark, unlit except from both ends and the light coming from himself. He had always imagined that the dead glowed yellow, but he glowed blue, leaving blue lightmarks on the walls of the tunnel. There wasn't any definite end of the wall, but the light hit and lit it. He walked steadily onwards, leaving behind him the memories of chaos and destruction in his mind. They appeared, then shot out of him like wand sparks, hitting the ceiling. Now more pleasant memories came, and he was closer to the end of the tunnel. Ginny. Memories of the cold corridor lit blue by the moonlight like he was lighting the tunnel. Memories warm with firelight that glinted off of Ginny's hair as she studied. Memories of her pale, freckled skin against his skin. He closed his eyes as a heart-wrenching tenseness formed in his chest, thinking about Ginny telling him about the child, their child._

_"Draco." He heard his name and opened his eyes. The voice was small and distant, but he knew it all the same. He turned. She glowed yellow, like spirits were supposed to, a tiny pinprick in the distance._

_"Oh, Draco."__ He didn't know what he was doing, walking back to her as she walked to him. It hurt; every shard of memory returned to him and shot him, returning his glow. He was surprised to see how faint he had become. He broke into a run, not wanting her to feel this pain, and she did too, growing fainter by the moment._

_"No, Ginny, wait for me."__ She did and he reached for her, their hands clasping and their light spreading over each other, a dual armor of blue and yellow light. Like children, they ran to the start of the tunnel and the memories didn't hurt anymore. They ran and jumped into the light at the end of the tunnel and he felt as if he were being torn apart by drops of icy water._

The two bodies lay together, the limbs mingled with each other: his arm draped across her pregnant stomach, her leg thrown over his and hooking around his knee. They were dead.

"And I was just starting to like him, too," Molly said tearfully, clutching Arthur's arm. They had all come down after the Dark Magic wards had been set off in the tunnel. Mr. and Mrs. Zambini were assisting Mr. Malfoy in his search for Mrs. Malfoy, who they had not seen in a few hours and Mr. Malfoy was becoming anxious. Dumbledore examined Cho's body, noting the damage done. Dumbledore moved over Ginny's body, his voice becoming crisp and commanding.

            "We'll have to work quickly. Arthur, give me your knife. I'm sorry Molly, I'm going to have to cut Ginny's body." 

"Why?"

"I'm going to try to save the baby. Molly, I want you to make a stasis sphere, and be sure to leave a gap big enough for a baby. Hermione, I want you to find the womb. I don't know much about pregnant women but I know you're a proficient student in magical healing and you'll know how to find it. Arthur, I want you to make a spare sphere if Molly's fails. Harry and Ron, a few smaller spheres. I know stasis spheres are much better when someone has parental instinct but I'll need to gather energy from your spheres as I transport the fetus. You've learned how to make them in transfiguration, I'm assuming."

            "Yes," the replied

            "You're not going to –" Molly interjected, but Arthur held her back.

            "If we don't now, it won't live." Hermoine was already elbow deep in blood, pulling a limp form in a black sack out of Ginny's body.

"The placenta must have been absorbing all the poison," Hermione said, thinking rapidly. "Dumbledore, I think we need to get rid of the poisoned placenta and use one of Harry and Ron's spheres to hold the fetus."

"Good thinking, don't cut anything until I tell you to. Harry, move your sphere closer to it. I'm going to fuse the placenta and the sphere." Her hand slippery with blood, Hermione touched the tip of her wand to the opening in the sphere, then touched the tip to the placenta. A thin gold line stretched between the two and Hermione drew the placenta into the sphere, tugging carefully at the thread. A burst of light illuminated the room once the placenta was in the sphere.

"Cut a slit in the placenta now and remove it." Dumbledore levitated the sphere which was now changing its shape molding into…the shape of a placenta. Together, Harry and Dumbledore levitated the sphere while Hermione guided it by the golden thread attached to her wand. It met with Ron's sphere, with a flash of light and Ron joined Harry and Dumbledore levitating the sphere.

"I want you to pass the guiding thread to me now, Hermione. Harry, Ron, stop levitating." Dumbledore's brow furrowed with concentration and the all watched as Dumbledore forced the sphere inside of Molly's.

"Arthur, seal the gap." His sphere disappearing, Mr. Weasley did just that, touching the sphere deftly with his wand as he pulled the two edges together. The sphere hovered in the air like a giant light bulb, shining a golden light on the bodies on the floor. Molly conjured a stretcher and Hermione levitated Cho's body onto it.

The figures still on the floor seemed to move, a silvery essence tinting their bodies.          "They're…waking," Harry murmured, wrapped in Blaise's arms. Silent tears streamed down her face.

            Ginny opened her eyes which were still closed. Hermione gasped.

            "They're not alive, Harry."

            The essences seemed to peal away from the bodies and rose, clasping their hands together.

            "No, we're not alive," Ginny said, smiling contentedly.

            "Do you two know what happened to Miss Chang?" Dumbledore asked, looking severely up at them.

            "I er…killed her. I couldn't help it," Draco babbled, "She was taunting me, telling me exactly how she had poisoned me and Ginny and I just sort of…exploded. I don't know how I did it, but I channeled my anger through her wand and the Killing Curse came out. I guess I'm…sad I did it. Well, not sad, but…I didn't want to kill anyone."

            "It's ok, Draco," Ginny said, "I won't fault you for it."

            "Can the ministry try ghosts at court?" he asked, "It's not like I can be sentenced to death or anything." Ginny looked down at her body, blood staining Draco's robe and the floor. She looked at her own translucent stomach where the swell should be, then at the sphere held up with Dumbledore's wand.

"You saved him."

"We'll do our best," Dumbledore replied.

"It's weird, seeing yourself on the floor like that. What are we?" Draco asked, looking through his hand at his body on the floor. Ginny smiled and took his hand.

            "We're ghosts."

~~~~~

I've had this ending planned for such a long time; it's so good to get it out. I'm sorry I killed them; but they're not really dead. And Cho was an evil bitch. ::sigh:: it all worked out in the end. This is the last chapter, but look out for "Captivating" and the Blaise/Harry story which I have not yet named (but Thrill of the Hunt will not have its title changed for usurpation). Thank you to all of you reviewers who have made me so happy and the NC-17 versians can be found at Cat Scratches, my personal fiction website (if you've got a website and would like to affiliate, tell me and I'd be very happy to.). "Don't try to fix me, I'm not broken," is a lyric from Evanescence's song "Hello" which I feel deeply moved by because her voice just haunts me. Oh wait, that's the little voice in the back of my mind. Silly me.

Leeta1: Oops…I killed him. But he's still "around" so we can still enjoy the way he looks. I wanted the green light to be confusing so you didn't know who died, and I hoped people would figure out that someone died because green light is characteristic of Avada Kedavra. And it's all that Harry sees – oh wait, that's Blaise.

Gwuinivyre: ::returns movie:: he is _such_ a cutie. Funny thing is it was raining like crazy a couple days ago; New Endgand must have given you our rain. Thank you for loving my story, hopefully as much as I love Draco.

sakhara291: The fast-pacedness was supposed to convey confusion and seeing as you are confused, it did. Dumbledore is good at Occlumency, and therefore he could tell something was wrong. Even though technically Occlumency is mind reading… well he's just a very responsive human being. Well, let's go read some Dumbledore/Minerva now…or perhaps Dumbledore/Fawkes?

Snowy-Owl-213: I read your story and submitted a review, although I'm not sure if it got through because it gave me this weird error. Anyways, I essentially said that I think it needs more tension; Draco and Ginny got together so quickly, there's not much of a story left except for them to enjoy each other's company, and that's not all that exciting. But I think you should keep writing! As for my writing, I pride myself on being proficiently productive. Meaning once every two days during the summer and once a week (hopefully) during the school year. Thanks for reviewing!

Nirvanagurl1220: Lucius dying is too cliché for me; it makes everything too easy. So instead they die. Ha! To be curt about Kurt (haha curt about Kurt), he's no Draco Malfoy. But I wouldn't mind having him as a bedfellow…

Black Rapture: Will do, muffin-lover. Thanks for reviewing and singing my praises. You sound like an angel to mine ears.

MelissaAdams: Lol, well…I just couldn't resist. Here's your quick review.

Adie: patience is a virtue, my dear. But Patience is a person. Adie, meet Patience. I'm so happy to hear you're hungry for more; that means you'll come back and finish the meal. I know this chapter moved fast; see sakhara291's response for why. Thanks for being such a faithful reviewer!

Dracomio:Lo siento, draco es mio. I'm assuming you know spanish because of your penname but I'm sorry I had to kill him against your wishes. It's hard to part with such beauty. ::dons black and begins to wail::

AnniBug: Thank ye lass.

Rukki: Thanks! Is it really that different? Well, different is good, because that means it's _my different. I never try to go with crowd so I suppose that showed in my writing. And the suspense…well I hope you can live with the suspense. I certainly can't (but then again, I know what happens, lol. I make it happen)._

I'll tell you all where to find the smutty goodness in the next, and last chapter. ::sniff sniff:: It's going to be over so soon! And I haven't planned anything! I'm in no fit state to write. ::sigh:: I'll just let the magic flow.


	13. Parting is such sweet sorrow

Disclaimer: I don't intend to infringe on any copyright laws, I just want to exercise my freedom of speech.****

**Parting is such sweet sorrow**

Ginny thought that it was a lot farther to the castle than she remembered but it gave her time to get used to gliding in the air. All she had to do was will her herself to move one way and she did. She reached up to touch the ankh that she always wore on her throat, but her hand met her neck and her necklace wasn't there. It was odd, she was wearing all the other clothing that she had been when she was dying. They reached the top and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley blasted the mirror out of place to let the baby through. Once everyone had passed, however, the mirror restored itself, looking like it had never been broken.

Madam Pomphrey was summoned hurriedly through the fireplace (Hermione lit one of her famous blue fires) and she set to work immediately to try and save the baby. Well, immediately after she had gotten over the three bodies on stretchers that lay in a line in the corner of the room. Draco sat, perched on one of the high windows. Through the window the light streamed in, lighting his silver self in a golden glow. His leg hung down as he sat lost in thoughts that she didn't know. She wanted to clear them away and reach him but the thoughts blanketed him and she knew he was comforted. Ginny floated lower.

            "I have quite a few questions to ask you all," Dumbledore began once Madam Pomphrey had started to work, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley at her side. "That includes you, Draco." Draco looked up from the window and floated down after Ginny. Watching him, Ginny didn't think he looked all that different – he was naturally pale, after all – except she could see through him. She reached for him, expecting him to feel cold to her because of his silver coloring, and was surprised that he didn't. He felt normal, as if they had never been removed from the mortal world and were still breathing. It was probably because they were in the same world now, one where they couldn't die, and nearly nothing could remove them from the mortal world. It was a bit depressing to think that you would watch everyone you care about die. At least she would see her baby grow. Wickedly, she wondered if she would be able to have sex with Draco, and if they did would they reproduce. Would they have ghost babies?

            "First, I have a few questions about Miss Chang…what made her go after you?"

            "Well, Dumbledore, erm…we were…dating and she didn't appreciate it when I broke up with her and then she found out I broke up with her because of Ginny…she was furious." Ginny took his hand between hers and gave him a gentle squeeze. "When she found out about the baby, Cho decided to strike back at not only me but also Ginny. When she told me…I couldn't help it. I was angry." Draco gripped Ginny's hand harder.

            "I do not blame you, Draco, for Miss Chang's death. She would have been sentenced to worse had you not killed her." Dumbledore sighed slightly, before conituning in a voice so softly, Draco could barely hear him. "I never like it when the young are corrupted."

            "She talked to me, before she died. She said she was sad and she felt very alone. I think she wanted someone to like her for who she was, not because she had a pretty face or was a good f– a good listener. She mentioned Cedric, and Harry." Dumbledore, who had previously been staring at a point on the wall, an expression of responsibility etched into his face, turned to look at Draco with a kind smile that didn't light his eyes.

"I understand. I knew Cedric's death would be hard on her, and Harry was the only one to see him die so naturally she was very confused about Harry. I just underestimated how hard it was." Dumbledore folded his hands, his eyes a bland gray, pausing as if to preserve the moment in remembrance of Cho. "But for every child that makes the wrong choice, there is one who makes a right choice and often the right choice is more difficult to make." He smoothed his robes, standing before them looking gently imperious.

"I am going to make your deaths look like an accident. Not many know about this secret passage, and that it is caved in, and those that do are trustworthy and will not object to my explanation that you all died in the passage. Your mother is safe, Draco. Her death has been staged in the same manner, only this time the body – or rather the Gingerbread Man – is too mangled to be recognized. We–"

            "Professor Dumbledore," Madame Pomphrey interrupted, "This baby is too young to be in a stasis sphere for long and survive without lasting damage. With your permission, I'd like to speed up the natural process. We'll need some Strengthening Solution from Severus and Minerva's time turner."

"I'll get it," Mr. Weasley offered and he took a pinch of Floo Powder before stepping into the fire. Dumbledore nodded before turning to face them once more.

"Now I suppose I have to ask what you want to do now."

"What do you mean?" Ginny asked, still holding Draco's hand.

"More specifically I am wondering how much we should tell your father, Draco. Do you want him to know about the baby? Or that you are now a ghost?"

"I…haven't thought about it."

"Your father will no doubt be…distraught that both his son and wife have died." Draco snorted.

"I suppose the question I want to ask is: is there anything I can do for the Order now that I'm a ghost?"

"You mean you still want to be a spy?" Ginny said, half-incredulously, half in awe.

"I want to get rid of the Dark Lord. The sooner he's gone, the sooner everyone can stop worrying about him. I can't think of any way he can harm me now; I can't die again."

"You're right, Draco. There aren't many restraints he can put on you now that you are a ghost. Most likely you will be used to recruit other ghosts, or maybe for spying. You can become invisible; I'll have Sir Nicholas teach you and Ginny how."

"Thank you," Ginny said, moving closer to Draco. He pulled away and returned to his window seat, contemplating what he would like to do. If he didn't try and fight against Voldemort, the war might go longer than he wanted. Or maybe there would be casualties; maybe Blaise or one of the Weasleys would die. Or even Harry. As much as he hated to admit it, he did believe Harry was the key to the Dark Lord's demise. He didn't like giving Harry too much credit. After all, he was already laden with responsibilities.

Still, he didn't know what he would be getting himself into now. Before, he had some idea of what he would do: kill for Voldemort, inform Dumbledore. And most of all he was to be subservient. But would the Dark Lord still have uses for him. Ghosts were not wizards; they didn't have control over much magic. Yes they had special powers, like invisibility, but Draco couldn't cast a spell and until he learned he wouldn't be able to affect objects in the physical world. He couldn't interact with the spiritual world either. He was trapped in the physical world and wouldn't ever leave it. And what did a little time matter anyways? He was going to live forever.

Except he wasn't living. And while people only came into where he was, the physical world was filled with comings and goings. He would risk their lives by not helping. And Voldemort wouldn't be able to control him. Hell, he could walk through walls!

With his mind made up, he glided back down. "I'll do it. I'll become a spy." Dumbledore smiled.

"Good. To further your mother's protection, we will train her to become an Animagus so that she can venture out on occasion. And we will take care of the baby, keeping it at headquarters. Ginny, would you like to haunt there?"

"I think I would, but not immediately, or at least not unless one of the Hogwarts ghosts comes with me. I'd like to learn to use my powers as quickly as possible."

"Very well, I will ask Sir Nicholas if he would not mind leaving the castle for a few months. You'll have to train Draco in the moments he can get away from Voldemort." Ginny smiled. The fire in the corner roared and Mr. Weasley stepped out of it, Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape following quickly behind him. Professor McGonagall stopped when she saw Ginny and Draco floating before her. Professor Snape knocked her forward a few steps as he stepped out of the fire, but she didn't chastise him or acknowledge his apology. She was too busy staring.

"What happened?"

"They died," Ron said simply. Hermione glared at him.

"I can see that, but how?" Hairs escaped her severe bun, as if sensing her frustration and running away before they were pulled back into severity.

"To make a long story short, Cho poisoned them. Draco killed Cho accidentally before they died. Ginny was pregnant and Madam Pomphrey's trying to save the baby. Maybe we should focus on that before we tell the story," Blaise explained, struggling not to laugh. Professor McGonagall looked flustered, something she never was. Harry moved closer to the Professor just in case she fainted.

"Yes, yes, of course," she pulled the hairs back and tucked them neatly before striding over help Madam Pomphrey. Her usual composure returned as she helped Madam Pomphrey pour Strengthening Solution into the umbilical cord. Professor Snape leaned against a wall, watching. Draco knew he felt completely out of place – Draco himself had once felt like that – and he slid over to him.

"So you're dead?"

"Yeah." Professor Snape and he had never really had an affinity; Lucius had warned Draco to stay away. Now they were in a similar situation since they were both spies, but the similarities ended there. Snape bore the mark of his master, Draco did not. Draco was pale, Snape had dark hair. Draco was born into a reputable family, Snape was not. Despite this, Draco had only received kindness from Snape, and encouragement. That was probably why Draco had always worked hard in potions class; he liked Snape's character and was treated fairly by him. He wasn't judged by his past, he was judged by his substance, and that was more influential than any showering of gifts could ever be.

            "You're lucky, you won't ever feel the burn of the Dark Mark."

"I suppose. I'm still going to help, though."

"I didn't expect you not to." Draco scrutinized the potions teacher. He had this air of dangerous nonchalance, like he didn't care about anything, except he cared about everything and you didn't know what would set him off. Draco felt like he owed something to the Professor, he just didn't know what. Before he had figured it out, Draco was called over by Madam Pomphrey. Ginny was already there, standing by the floating fetus. Two chains of gold lay around its neck, one was a time turner whose bottom Professor McGonagoll was turning with her wand and the other was the ankh. Madam Pomphrey continued to pour the solution as the baby changed and grew before their eyes.

"STOP!" Madam Pomphrey shouted. Professor McGonagall stopped turning the time turner and Madam Pomphrey had stopped pouring the solution. Unfortunately, Hermione stopped hovering the fetus and it began to fall. Draco watched, almost as if time slowed before his eyes, as it fell and reached forward to catch it. The fetus slipped through his fingers, quite literally and he heard Ginny gasp beside him. Harry, aided by a seekers reflexes, darted through Ginny to catch the baby and succeeded, landing on his back and sliding a meter on the floor. Hermione let out the breath she had been holding.

"Sorry," she apologized, smiling sheepishly. On the floor, Harry began to laugh. Everyone turned to see why. The baby had fallen asleep and drooled on his stomach. Everyone else joined in. A baby was supposed to cry after having just been dropped, not fall asleep. Startled, the baby awoke and did the expected; it began to cry. Blaise dropped to her knees beside Harry and took the baby from his arms to rock it. It soon fell asleep again and began to drool. Draco was a bit repulsed that his child was a drooler but resisted the urge to rush over and coo over how adorable it was.

"It's a boy," Blaise said quietly, still rocking the baby.

"Well, that settles it them," Ginny said, breaking the silence.

"Settles what?" Draco asked.

"Blaise and Harry are the godparents."

"What? Why aren't Hermione and I?" Ron protested.

"Because you're Uncle Ron, and from the way you two have been acting I'm almost sure Hermione will become a legitimate Aunt Hermione." Hermione blushed.

            Harry tore his gaze from the baby to meet Ginny's.

            "Are you sure about this?" Ginny grinned.

            "Positive."

            "But you won't be taking care of him," Mrs. Weasley interpolated sternly. "You two have no idea how to care for a baby. You'd best leave that to Arthur and myself. And of course Narcissa. At least until you're graduated and settled."

            "Shouldn't a baby stay with his family?" Arthur asked.

"But he will be with family," Molly replied, smiling warmly. The smile that grew on Harry's face was enough to make the coldest heart warm.

"We should name him," Draco said, turning to Ginny again.

"Yes, what do you think is a good name?"

"It has to be latin. It's tradition."

"To hell with tradition."

"No, it _has to be latin. The Malfoy child must have enough teasing by his name. It's tradition."_

"What is there, a 'Malfoy code of conduct'?"

"No, I had to memorize all the codes of conduct."

"Fine, then tell me what names there are so I can choose."

"I can't just _tell you. There are too many."_

"Then let's go by meaning."

"Um…I don't know. What sort of meaning would you like?"

"Maybe something about surviving, or being protected."

"Felix…" Dumbledore muttered.

"Pardon?"

"Felix," Dumbledore repeated, "it means lucky."

"Felix…I like that! What do you think Draco?"

"I think it's a good name. Felix it is!"

Ricking back and forth, Felix slept on, snuggled in Blaise's warm arms as he drooled on her sleeve. Goodnight, baby Felix.

            "Why were you in the corridor that night?" Draco and Ginny sat in the window where Ginny had been watching him before. Mrs. Weasley had taken the sleeping Felix and hidden him in Professor McGonagall's office where the once stern teacher watched the baby with a warm hint in the severe line of her mouth. Draco wouldn't see Ginny for a long time, he suspected, and he wasn't sure how to say goodbye.

            "I had lost my necklace and I couldn't find it. I guess I thought I would die without it because it protected me from Tom."

            "Well, you are sort of dead, Ginny. And if you hadn't gotten involved with me, you wouldn't have died."

            "Yes but sort of because I wanted to die, I guess. I was wearing the necklace when I died, but I don't think it was working to save me, in the end. It was trying to save the baby. Maybe it didn't protect me from death by not protecting me from you, but I don't want it to protect me from you. I love you, Draco. When you were dying, I was so afraid of losing you I sort of asked to get the chance to save you and I got it. I'm still with you and even through I couldn't bring you back to normal, we'll be with each other forever and I won't lose you ever. I can't lose you." Her pulled her close, folding her into his arms and holding him tightly.

            "You're not the only one who cares in this relationship, you know." She nodded against his shoulder. "I love you too."

            "MY WIFE AND MY SON ARE DEAD!?!" If Mr. Malfoy was angry then ice isn't cold. Mr. Malfoy was spitting-fire, adrenaline-filled, knashing-teeth, furious.

            "I'm still here, father." Draco said, floating towards his father from the corner where he had been hiding. Mr. Malfoy whirled around to face him, he anger not cooled by his son's presence.

            "You're still dead. Come Draco, we have people waiting."

            "As you wish." Mr. Malfoy stalked off, a house elf hovering Draco's trunk before him. Draco had told Dumbledore to remove a few items from the box; they were now hidden in Ginny's trunk. Mr. and Mrs. Zambini followed and Blaise trailed after them, dragging her trunk with her head held high. She didn't so much as wink as she passed Harry and Draco could sense his hurt and understood it. Even if he knew it was pretended, it still hurt to be snubbed by the one you loved.

            As they exited the school, Draco looked back once more. The snow-edged stones held together by magic hid the place where he had found love from view.

~~~~~

I'm not going to respond to any of the reviews this time, but I appreciate all of them. Seriously I do. It makes me happy that you like my story. It seems like I've been writing this chapter forever, but I think I've finally got it. Endings are so hard to write, especially since I've left so many loose ends. I know it's taken me an incredibly long time to update; I've been busy with dance and websites and writing my other stories. Also to anyone who'd like an alternative ending where Ginny and Draco do not die, tough luck. Unlike Dickens, I am not going to rewrite my baby because of opposition. Personally I like Dickens' originally ending of "Great Expectations" better. I hope you don't hate me because of it.

I've named the Blaise/Harry story "In the Eye of the Basilisk". It's going to be a parallel fic but also continue on to be a sequel. I won't get to writing the sequel bit for a while because I have to do all the parallel stuff first (which won't be twelve chapters, I promise) but if you'd like me to e-mail you once I start writing the sequel bit, review and leave me your e-mail and I'll put you on my list. So that's my plug for that. I also have a new Ginny/Draco fic, "Captivating", which I've talked about some. Both of the first chapters for each story are up.

And finally the moment you've all been waiting for: the location of my NC-17. It's in Cat Scratches ( h t t p : / / w w w . a n g e l f i r e . c o m / p o e t r y / c a t s c r a t c h e s / i n d e x . h t m l), my site that houses all my fiction. Remove the spaces. I won't give you a direct link to the chapter because my hit counter's on the main page and in order for me to keep track of all my visitors, you'll have to go to the main page first. Sorry for any inconvenience but it'll be like a test for who's worthy of my smut, lol. Those who want the sex have to work for it, like in life.

Oh, and so many of you have been on my case about the shadows, and I don't think I made it clear in my last chapter: Cho was the one shadow in silent fury.

It's been a long, rocky road and all I can say is: hallelujah!


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